


An Idiots Guide to Coming Into Your Demonic Powers and Social Standing

by snapdragonpop007



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: A little bit of angst, Demon Shane Madej, Demons, Developing Relationship, Episode: s03e04 The Demonic Goatman's Bridge, Friends to Lovers, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, because its hell, but its mostly shenanagins, i guess?, literally and metaphorically, newly aquired demonic powers, shady political policies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2020-11-26 13:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20931140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snapdragonpop007/pseuds/snapdragonpop007
Summary: Written by Shane Madej, Owner of Alton Bridge, Seventh Duke of Hell and Advisor to Lord Satan, Our Majesty,Edited by Ryan Bergara,and translated into Enochian by Lord Beelzebub, First Duke of Hell and Advisor to Lord Satan, Our Majesty(Enochian copy only available in the Seventh Circle of Hell, by request only)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a oneshot, but I was getting to the 15 page mark and nowhere near close to the end

Shane’s eyes had changed color. 

He frowned, leaning closer to the bathroom mirror. Closer and closer, until his breath was fogging the glass and he was going cross eyed. He pulled back, blinking his eyes back into focus. Then he leaned in again, pulling the skin and bags under his eyes down to get a better look. 

He did this again and again—leaning forward, going cross eyed, pulling back—until Obi brushed up against his leg and yowled.

“Jesus Christ—!” Shane startled, jumping back from the mirror, all thoughts of gold eyes disappearing as quickly as they came. 

Obi rumbled up a purr and weaved between his legs. 

“You scared me, baby,” Shane bent down and scooped up Obi, cradling him close to his chest. Obi purred louder, butting his head into Shane’s chin and nuzzling it as hard as he could in an apology. 

Shane hummed and kissed the top of Obi’s fuzzy little head. 

Obi meowed.

“It’s dinner time, isn’t it?” Shane continued on, sliding his elbow along the wall until it hit the light switch, the bulbs clicking off just as he walked out. Shadows flickered in the corner of Shane’s eyes, and he blinked them away and nudged the bathroom door shut. 

Obi meowed louder, sticking a paw up and laying it on Shane’s cheek. 

Shane laughed. “Yeah, It’s dinner time.” 

He carried Obi through the living room and to the kitchen, setting him down next to the empty food bowl. Obi sat patiently as Shane rummaged around, giving one last cut off _merph_ as Shane poured the food in before sticking his own head in after. Shane watched his cat for a moment, then shook his head and went in search of his own dinner, cracking open drawers and cupboards and staring blankly at everything that greeted him. 

He wasn’t in the least bit hungry, but Shane knew he should eat something before the jetlag really hit and he collapsed on the couch and slept for the next ten hours. His eyes already felt heavy, and he was sure his arms and legs would be quick to follow. 

Shane stifled a yawn, reaching past soup cans for the bag of chips he had hidden behind them. 

_Solid dinner choice, Madej._

Just to balance it out, Shane poured himself a glass of milk to go with it. 

Obi jolted as Shane walked past him, spitting out a few pieces of food in his haste to follow after him. 

“You better eat that,” Shane mumbled.

Obi just yelled, weaving in between Shane’s legs and tripping him up every time he did. Shane wasn’t even in the least bit mad about it--even though he did spill a little milk--because he had only just gotten back from Alton and he was exhausted and he had missed Obi about as much as Obi had missed him. Shane had fully embraced the catdad roll Ryan joked about and he wasn’t in the least bit ashamed to say so. 

And speak of the devil, and you shall see the devil.

Shane’s phone lit up and started vibrating violently in his pocket, the Ghostbusters theme filling the silence of the apartment.

“Did you get home alright?” Ryan asked him before Shane even had the chance to say hello. 

“I got home just fine, Ryan,” Shane fell into the couch, bouncing just enough to send more milk sloshing over the side of the cup. Shane frowned, setting the cup down on the coffee table and flicking the milk off his hand. “I was just about to text you, actually.” 

“Oh.”

Shane stayed silent, waiting for Ryan to continue.

“That’s--that’s good,” Ryan sighed and then laughed a little, his voice crackling over the static of the phone. “Sorry, I just--” 

“You get twitchy,” Shane finished. Obi jumped up into his lap, and Shane moved the bag of chips to the side as Obi went to lick at the milk still on his hand. Shane let him.

“I do not get _twitchy_,” Ryan snapped, and Shane laughed. “I get _worried_. There's a difference.” 

“Of course,” Shane ran his hand along Obi’s back as the cat curled up in his lap, falling silent as he let Ryan rant and fume at him about the difference between the two things. 

Twitchy wouldn’t be the word Shane would use--he just did it to get a rise out of Ryan. No, what Ryan got was nervous. After every demon investigation he got nervous and fidgety, his head glancing over his shoulder as they left, hands landing on Shane’s arms or shoulders for just a moment on their way back to LA, making Shane promise to text when he got home and then eventually ending up calling him before Shane got the chance to. 

It was sweet, Shane supposed, that Ryan got so worried. 

“...so yeah,” Ryan finished. “I get worried.” 

Shane hummed, tilting his hand as Obi butted his head into his open palm. “Thank you, for being so concerned about my safety and lack of demonic possession.”

“You’re welcome,” Ryan huffed. Then he sighed, and Shane could picture him pacing the length of his living room, glancing out the windows and carding his fingers through his hair over and over again until it was a tangled mop atop his head. “I should...I should let you get to bed.”

Shane smiled. “You should get to bed too, Ry. No late night web surfing or looking at cold cases.”

Ryan snorted. “Yes, _dad_.” 

“Good Night, Ryan,” Shane sang it, hanging up just as Ryan opened his mouth to snap something back. 

His phone buzzed not even a second later.

_Fuck You dude_

_Good night_

Shane smiled, something warm and happy bubbling up in his chest. 

—

When Shane woke the next morning and stumbled into the bathroom admit a flurry of a fuzzy orange cat and detangling himself from the blanket, his eyes ached from the contacts he had both left and slept in, and they were still a different color. 

Shane frowned. 

He turned the lights off, then on again, then stepped back and turned them off and on again. 

His eyes remained a bright gold. 

Shane’s frown deepened.

It was probably just the contacts. He had been wearing them for almost a solid 48 hours at this point. They were probably just dried out and reflecting the light weird, or maybe Shane was just that tired and his own vision was still whacky and hadn’t yet adjusted to being awake. 

Obi meowed and head butted Shane’s leg. 

“Yeah, I know,” Shane mumbled it, tilting his head and not dragging his eyes off his reflection. “Breakfast time.” 

Obi let out another meow. 

Shane shook his head, backing out of the bathroom and turning off the lights. 

This was a problem for One Cup Of Coffee Shane, not Just Woke Up Shane. 

He followed Obi to the kitchen, his moves slow and clumsy as he fed his affectionately referded to furry son. Obi didn’t seem to mind. He purred and nuzzled Shane’s hand in what Shane assumed ment _I know you’re tired but good job, dad_, then batted away the pieces of kibble Shane had spilled and dropped his head into the food bowl. 

Shane sighed, dragging his hand across his face and jaw, then down his neck and to his shoulder. 

His eyes still felt so heavy.

And he had work today.

“Fuuuuck,” Shane groaned, dragging the word out and tilting his head back. He stood like that for a moment, listening to Obi crunch away at his food and staring at the overhead light until his vision was almost completely black. Then he looked back down, blinking away the tears and the spots dancing in his eyes, and walked back to the bathroom. 

The contacts case was right on the counter where Shane had left it. He gave it a quick rise out with a trickle of warm water, and squirted the saline solution into the little wells until it threatened to overflow. Then he leaned uncomfortably close to the mirror, holding open his eye as he worked the first contact out. It stung, in the way that dried out contacts do, and Shane had to leave it on the tip of his finger and blink for a few seconds before dropping it in the case. 

His left eye was no better. In fact, Shane had to stand there longer to blink away the sting. 

Once he got that done, Shane slipped his glasses on and didn't look back in the mirror as he walked out of the bathroom. 

It wasn't until he was driving to work that he realized he hadn’t turned on the bathroom light. 

\--

“Still alive, I see.” 

Ryan set a Starbucks cup in front of Shane, which he quickly grabbed and held it close to his chest like he was afraid Ryan would take it away. 

“Steve Goatman was unsecsseful in his murder attempts.” Shane mumbled, taking a slow sip. It was iced tea, just like he asked for. “Although his attempts were valiant.” 

Ryan snorted, falling into his desk chair with a little bounce. He was holding his own Starbucks cup--some complicated drink order that no sane man should be able to consume, Shane was sure--and he took a sip before immediately pulling it back and grimacing. 

“Not what you ordered?” Shane asked.

“No, it’s just--it’s hot.” Ryan glared at the cup, setting it down on his desk far enough away from him where it was just out of his reach, but just close enough to where he could still see it. “And I’m not some monster who drinks cold tea from Starbucks.”

Shane hummed and took another sip from his own. 

“Did you not sleep last night? Is that why you’re being mean to me?”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “I did sleep, as a matter of fact, and I’m not being mean to you--”

He cut himself off, head tilting and eyes narrowing as he looked at Shane, then leaned up dangerously close into Shane’s personal space. Close enough that Shane could smell the warm spice of his cologne and make his head spin.

“Uh...Ry?” Shane leaned back as far as his chair would allow him, but Ryan just followed. He reached his hands out to place on Shane’s shoulders, legs kicking out in front of him to maintain his own balance as his chair teetered onto the front two wheels. The other three spun as they were lifted off the ground, and Shane watched them for a moment before blinking and looking back at Ryan. “What ‘cha doing there, buddy?” 

“Are you wearing contacts?” Ryan asked. 

Shane frowned. Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn’t been that. “I’m wearing glasses.”

“No, I know but--your eyes are really gold.” Ryan tilted his head the other way. “They look almost yellow, dude.” 

Shane batted Ryan’s hands away in a perfect imitation of Obi. Ryan fell back into his seat, startled, the wheels on his chair spinning madly before connecting back with the floor. They stared at each other for a moment, then Ryan started giggling while Shane wrinkled his nose and huffed.

“Sorry--Sorry I didn’t mean--” Ryan let out a soft wheeze, and then Shane was laughing right along with him. “I just--have you looked at them?” 

“Of course I’ve looked at them, Ryan, they’re _my_ eyes,” Shane wheezed, and they were both laughing and giggling and ducking down to try and hide the fact that they were laughing and giggling. It was just early enough for their usual shenanigans to be annoying to the other employes--it was always too early for their shenanigans, some would argue. 

“Seriously though,” once they died down Ryan leaned in close again. “Are you wearing contacts? Like, colored ones?” 

“No, I’m not wearing _colored contacts,_” Shane couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “I just left my normal, regular contacts in for way too long.”

Ryan frowned. “I don’t think that’s how that works, Shane.”

“You don’t know how a lot of things work, Ryan.” Shane immediately bounced back, and Ryan sputtered. 

“Rude!” Ryan said it in that offended and snarky way of his, and Shane was laughing again. 

“Sorry--” Shane weezed it out, and Ryan just huffed and smacked Shane’s arm. “Sorry you just--you walked right into it--”

“See if I ever worry about you again.” Ryan hit him again, then reached for his almost forgotten coffee. He took a large sip and swallowed much to quickly, coughing and sputtering and slamming the cup back down on his desk with a loud thwack. Shane was laughing again, and all thoughts of golden eyes left his mind for the second time that day. 

\--

Ryan sat curled up on Shane’s couch, buried under a blanket and a sleeping Obi as he scrolled through his phone. He came home with Shane more often than not now-a-days; had a house key and everything. 

Shane was on the other end of the couch, and he gave a soft sigh and flopped over into the open space of Ryan’s lap. He let his arm dangle off the edge of the couch and dropped his phone onto the floor, closing his eyes and hoping he could will away the building ache right behind his eyes. 

Ryan lifted his own hand, running his fingers through Shane’s hair. 

“You okay, big guy?” he asked.

“ ‘m headache,” Shane mumbled. 

He felt Ryan shift underneath him. Obi merph’ed, and then he felt a paw on his head right next to Ryan’s fingers. 

“You want me to get you anything?” Ryan kept carding his fingers through Shane’s hair, the gentle tugging and soft touches making his eyes grow heavy. “Aspirin? Water?” 

“Nah, Ry, I’m good,” Shane closed his eyes. The frame of his glasses dug into his cheek, and he was only able to stand it for a few seconds before he lifted his head just enough to slip them off. He dropped them on the floor next to his phone, sighing softly and dropping his head back on Ryan’s lap. 

Shane felt Ryan shift under him again, and then he heard the click of the lamp being turned off. 

“Thanks.” Shane’s voice came out muffled and garbled.

Ryan huffed out a little laugh. “Sure thing.” 

The ache behind Shane’s eyes dulled. He let out a soft sigh, tucking his legs to his chest and throwing his arm over Ryan’s legs. Obi startled, jumping down from the couch and running off to the bedroom. Shane cracked open his eyes to watch him, then he jolted up and watched Obi skitter away with wide eyes. 

“Woah, hey,” Shane had accidently knocked Ryan’s phone out of his hand, and it went bouncing to the floor next to Shane’s. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Shane didn’t answer for a moment. He stared at the spot where Obi had stopped, narrowing his eyes and stretching them wide. What was usually blurry to Shane was crystal clear--there was no fuzz, no blurry angles, no hazy walls. 

“Shane?”

“Yeah, I’m…” Shane blinked, and there was no change. He could see perfectly fine. “...I’m fine, Ry.” 

He turned to look at Ryan, but something in his eyes must not have looked right. Maybe they were still too wide, or maybe they held the startled surprise that Shane still felt, because Ryan frowned and leaned closer to Shane.

He lifted his hands, and one fell over the one Shane had on Ryan’s thigh, and the other fell on Shane’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?” 

Shane swallowed. “I, um...I’m not--I can see.”

Ryan blinked. 

“I--” Shane waved and flipped his hand, looking back to the hall and dragging his fingers through his hair before looking back at Ryan. “I took my glasses off and I can still _see_.” 

Ryan looked like he was going to laugh, but then his eyes widened and he looked down the hall before looking back at Shane. “You--seriously?” 

Shane nodded.

“Holy shit.” Then Ryan leaned closer, moving his hands to cradle Shane’s jaw and hold him still as he peered at his eyes. It had been long enough that most of Ryan’s cologne had faded away, but it still smelled like Ryan had just sprayed it on. “Maybe it’s because...I mean, your eyes are still yellow…”

Shane felt light headed, and he leaned away to get a lungful of cologne free air. 

Ryan’s fingers slipped from Shane’s jaw, and Shane immeadly missed the warmth of it. He had to stop himself from snatching Ryan’s hand’s back and pressing them against his cheeks, instead stooping down to snatch his phone from the floor. He fumbled with it as he fought to open the camera, and as soon as he flipped the screen to his face the phone died. 

Shane blinked dumbly at it, then threw it to the other end of the couch and unfolded himself to stand. 

He went to the bathroom, Ryan scrambling after him, and when he flicked on the lights and looked in the mirror his reflecting was staring back at him, eyes still that bright lemon yellow they had been this morning. 

“What the fuck.” Shane did not ask it so much as he stated it. 

“This is weird,” Ryan had stumbled into the bathroom, his eyes darting from Reflection Shane to Actual Shane. “This is weird, right?”

“Extremely.” Shane frowned. He tilted his head and leaned closer to the mirror.

His pupils looked like they had slanted and shifted, sitting horizontally in his eyes. It looked, if he were being honest, like he was staring at a pair of goat eyes. But when he blinked it was gone.

“Do you think--?”

“If you say something about demonic possession I will throttle you,” Shane looked back at Ryan.

Ryan scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was going to say do you think you need to go to the hospital, but since you brought it up…”

Ryan trailed off, leaving it unsaid. 

Shane blinked, feeling a tug of guilt in his chest. “Sorry, I--” he sighed, running his hand over his face. He felt tired and exhausted and wide awake all at once. “I’ll call the--the eye place tomorrow. I’m sure it’s nothing.” 

Ryan’s mouth lost that hard edge and went soft and he stepped closer. “Shane…” 

“You gonna stay here tonight?”

If Ryan thought anything of the sudden shift in topic, he didn’t say so. “If you want me to.” 

Shane nodded. 

\--

When Shane woke up the alarm clock he had perched in the bedroom window was flashing 4:56 AM and Ryan was still asleep, at least he assumed, as he didn’t hear the tell tale clattering of pots and pans in the kitchen. He groaned, rolling over and flinging his arm to the side, accidentally hitting a sleeping Obi. 

“Sorry, baby,” Shane apologized and tried to reach out to pet Obi, but the cat just flicked his tail and hopped off the bed to go curl up on the couch with Ryan.

He heard Ryan shift and mumble a sleepy greeting to Obi, and Shane waited till Ryan fell silent again before he threw the blankets off and emerged from the bedroom. 

Ryan was stretched out on the couch, one arm tossed over the back and the other curled around Obi, who was tucked into his side. He looked dead to the world, and Shane did his best to creep silently past them and into the kitchen, knowing full well that this was probably the first time Ryan had actually slept since they got back from Texas. 

Still, as a precaution, Shane went about brewing a full pot of coffee and filling Obi’s empty bowl. 

Ryan stumbled in the kitchen when the pot was roughly halfway full, blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his hair flying every which way and Obi trailing after him. 

“What time is it?” he grumbled, although it came out sounding more like wha ‘ime ‘s ‘t?

“Little after five,” Shane answered. He was proficient enough in Early Morning Ryan Speak to understand his slurred words.

Ryan groaned. “Fuuuck.” 

Shane hummed, offering Ryan the cup of coffee he had just poured. Ryan took it, clasping his hands around the mug and holding it close to his lips, but not close enough to actually drink it. Shane snorted as Ryan stared blankly at the black liquid, sliding the pot back into the machine and wincing with each drip of coffee into the pot. 

“Does that seem loud to you?” Shane asked.

Ryan blinked and slowly drug his eyes up to Shane’s. “What?”

“That,” Shane gestured to the coffee machine. “Does that seem loud?”

Ryan looked at it, blinked, then shrugged. 

Shane huffed, not entirely sure why he asked Ryan in the first place. He knew he wasn’t going to be coherent enough to form a proper conversation until at least two cups of coffee.

He grit his teeth as another drop of coffee plopped into the pot. 

“How did you sleep?” he asked instead.

“Fine,” Ryan replied, taking a slow slurp from the mug. It was still way too hot, Shane knew that, but Ryan didn’t seem to mind. 

Shane had offered up the bed to Ryan last night, but Ryan had been quick to say no with the excuse that it was Shane’s bed, and really you need sleep more than I do. Shane could have argued, but instead he offered to share the bed, saying we do it all the time on location, and its big enough for two people. Ryan had looked like he was going to agree, but then he had flushed and shook his head and offered up way too many reasons why he shouldn't, plopping himself down on the couch before it could become a full on argument, and had Shane pretended that he wasn’t disappointed. 

Shane shook his head at another drip, taking a pan down from its hook and setting it down on the stove. 

“Eggs okay, little guy?”

Ryan hummed and nodded. 

They fell into a silence filled only with the dripping of the coffee pot, and Shane wished Ryan were more awake to talk so he could drown out that steady and irritating drip drip dripping. Shane was so distracted by that drip that he must have knocked his hand against the pan while he was throwing some salt in, because all of a sudden his hand burned. 

“Shit!” Shane jumped back, startling both Ryan and Obi, dropping the salt shaker to the floor and sticking his finger in his mouth. “Ow—fuck!”

“Are you okay?” Ryan set the coffee mug down and stepped closer to Shane. 

“I—yeah, I just—“ Shane dropped his hand, expecting to see a bright red burn along his finger, but there was nothing there outside of a few bright red specks. “...burned myself.” 

“Let me see,” Ryan was taking Shane’s hand before he could utter a protest.

His breath was almost as warm as his skin, and Shane wanted to pull away just as much as he wanted to get closer. 

“It doesn't look too bad,” Ryan hummed, turning Shane’s hand over in his. Their fingers locked together for a moment before Ryan slid his hand down to Shane’s wrist, holding it steady as he brought up his other hand to hold Shane’s. “Should still probably put something on it, though.” 

Shane was so distracted by the warmth that was Ryan Bergara that it took him a moment to process exactly what it was he said.

“Um...yeah. That’s--yeah.”

Ryan wheezed out a laugh. “Stuff’s in the bathroom, right?”

Shane nodded.

“Be right back, big guy,” Ryan gave him a bright smile, sliding his fingers across Shane’s skin and bone as he dropped his hand. Then he was darting off to the bathroom, and Shane was left standing in the kitchen, taking deep breaths as he stared at Obi. 

Obi stared back, tail swishing. 

“Don’t even, mister.” Shane narrowed his eyes at Obi, and Obi blinked. “I know, and I’m _working_ on it.” 

Obi meowed, then went off after Ryan. 

“Traitor.” Shane grumbled it out, turning back to the stove. The eggs were still cooking, and the least Shane could do was not burn their breakfast. Or Ryan’s breakfast, it he wanted to be specific. 

Ryan came back just as Shane was taking the pan off the burner.

“Come here,” Ryan set the little med kit down on the table, then took Shane’s hand in his and dragged him over. Shane went willingly, setting down in the chair and gazing up at Ryan as he leaned over him and smeared some foul smelling cream over the burn. Shane had to turn his nose away, because that stuff made his head ache and his eyes water. 

“What the fuck is that?” Shane asked. “It smells awful.” 

“Burn cream,” Ryan answered. Seemingly satisfied, he exchanged the cream for a band aid, taking his time to wrap it around Shane’s finger. “And you can hardly smell it, Shane. Don’t be a baby about it.” 

It was the only think Shane could smell, but instead of saying so he snapped his mouth shut and let Ryan’s words sink in for a moment. Then, like the adult he was, he stuck his tongue out at Ryan and looked away with a huff. 

Ryan laughed, a bright and happy thing that made Shane smile. “What are you, ten?”

“One a scale of one to ten, yeah,” Shane said it back almost immediately, sending Ryan into another bout of laughter. 

“You’re fucking awful,” Ryan said. Then he pulled back, patting Shane’s hand twice before turning to put everything back in the little med box. “Be more careful next time, okay?”

“I make no promises.”

Shane couldn't see it, but he was sure Ryan rolled his eyes. 

“I’m gonna go put this back,” Ryan rattled the med kit in his hand, then skipped back off to the bathroom again.

Obi, who had just wandered back into the kitchen, turned right back around to follow him. 

Shane watched them for a moment, then stood in search of plates and forks. He pulled the plates down from the cupboard, and on his way to get some clean forks from the dishwasher he stopped to scoop a bit of the scrambled egg into his mouth.

He spit it out as soon as he did, eyes watering and mouth burning. 

“You good?” Ryan had come back, his head tilted and mouth pulled into a frown as Shane opened his fridge and guzzled some milk right from the jug. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Shane’s voice cracked. “Eat some breakfast--’m gonna...I’m gonna take a shower.” 

“Are you not hungry?” Ryan asked.

“No.” Shane lied.

\--

Maybe, Shane thought, he was allergic to salt. 

He tapped his pencil against his desk and frowned at the wikipedia article on his computer screen, scrolling down a page without hardly reading the words.

It would explain most everything that was happening.

It had to. 

“Here,” Ryan slid into his seat, setting a chipped buzzfeed mug in front of him. “Got you some coffee.”

“Thanks,” Shane clasped it between his hands, sighing happily at the warmth that spread through his fingers. 

He had been really fucking cold lately.

“What ‘cha looking at?” Ryan leaned over, propping his elbow up on the armrest of Shane’s chair and dropping his chin in his palm. His cologne was still ridiculously strong, although Shane was starting to think that it wasnt at that he himself was just sick or something, but Shane loved the smell of Ryan’s cologne so he never bothered to actually pull away. “Wikipedia?” 

“I think I’m allergic to salt.” Shane answered. He didn’t want to drink the coffee, too scared to loose the warmth it offered. Honestly, at this rate he should start carrying around a blanket. 

“That’s fucking unfortunante.” Ryan blinked, then immediately tried to back peddle. “No, shit--wait--” 

Shane burst out into laughter, managing to get out between breaths “It _is_ fucking unfortunante.”

Ryan slapped his shoulder.

Shane cackled and wheezed for a moment, then took a deep breath and swallowed back the rest of his laughter. Then he took a sip of the coffee and wondered why he didn’t do it sooner as the warmth of it filled his chest and stomach. 

“You seriously think you’re allergic to salt?” Ryan asked. He had that look on his face.

“Yes, and don’t you dare say anything about demons, Ryan.”

“You were the one who brought it up, not me,” Ryan gave him a pleasant little smile, but he still looked concerned. “But Shane, either way I think...I mean, you’ve got to be sick or something. It’s been a week since all this started and you’re not...you’re not any better.”

Shane knew that. Shane knew that very well.

His eyes were still yellow and he had taken to wearing his glasses to try and hide it, despite his seemingly perfect vision and the massive headache they gave him. He was cold all the time, most noises agitated him, everything smelled so strongly to him and every attempt to eat salt since The Egg Incident ended in the same way. That one bugged Shane the most, because he loved salty food things.

“I'm going to see the eye doc tomorrow,” Shane said instead. “And if he can’t figure out what's up I’ll see a doctor doctor.”

Ryan didn’t look entirely pacified by that, so before Shane could really think about it he offered to let Ryan tag along. 

“I mean, if you’re okay with it…”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t, little guy.” Shane offered Ryan a smile, and Ryan gave him one back. 

He was just...allergic to salt now, that’s all.

That has to be all.


	2. Chapter 2

“As strange as it is, Mr. Madej, your eyes are perfectly healthy,” the doctor flicked the lights back on. Shane flinched back from the flare and blinked until his eyes adjusted. “In fact, I’d say they’re better than perfect.” 

Shane watched her walk over to the table, picking up her file and flipping it open as she sat in the chair next to him. Then he glanced at Ryan, who only offered up a shrug. “Sometimes these things just happen--medical miracles and all that.” 

Shane thought that was complete bullshit, and judging by Ryan’s frown he thought the same thing. 

“It’s strange, I know it is,” she offered him a gentle smile and for just a moment Shane could see a spark of worry in her own eyes. “But I can’t offer you anything more than that. I wish I could, I really do, but I can’t correct anything when there's nothing wrong with it.” 

Shane wanted to point out how his eyes were yellow now. Instead he asked “What about the headaches?”

“You wore your glasses when you didn’t need to, and it caused an unnecessary strain on your eyes.” 

“What about his eye color?” Ryan asked. He blurted it out--demanded more than asked.

The doctor turned to look at Ryan, then back to Shane. “There’s lots of reasons for it. Exposure to the sun, a change in diet--things like that.” 

“We were in Texas for a bit,” Shane mumbled. “We were out in the sun a lot, Ry.”

Ryan’s lips went into a tight line, but he didn’t argue. 

“I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Mr. Madej,” she gave them another smile, then packed them up and sent them on their way. They stepped out of the building with a receipt in hand--it took longer for Shane’s eyes to adjust to the light this time--and Ryan just barely managed to wait till they got in the car before he started talking. 

“That was fucking bullshit and you know it,” Ryan huffed, the keys smacking against the dashboard as he jammed them in the ignition. 

Shane wanted to sigh, but he managed to hold it back. “I’m not going to argue with a doctor, Ryan.” 

And, well, she _had_ given him an explanation. A shitty explanation, but one nonetheless, and Shane would have taken anything she had said. 

Ryan scowled, and the car rumbled to life. 

“Can we stop at a CVS or something? I want to get frames,” then, at Ryan’s quizzical look, “My eyes are still yellow, Ryan. I’m not walking around like that.” 

Ryan sighed. 

\--

“What about this one?”

“Those are way too small for your face, dude,” Ryan bit back a laugh, and Shane bent down so Ryan could reach up and slide the glasses off his face. “You look like a mole rat.” 

A laugh bubbled out of Shane’s chest. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ry.”

“Here,” Ryan slid the glasses back on the display and took off another pair. These ones were brown and thick framed and Shane had his doubts but Ryan looked so pleased with himself that he obligingly leaned down so Ryan could slid them on his face. “There. That’s way better.” 

Shane leaned back up, startled by his reflection in the mirror.

“I guess you do have a sense of fashion,” he said. The frames of the glasses were just thick enough to take away from his eyes, and even if you were to look at them the brown matched the new golden hue of his iris’ so well that his eyes almost looked normal. 

Ryan smacked Shane’s arm. “Shut up, dude.” 

Shane smiled and ignored the wild fluttering of his heart. “Comeon’, let's get out of here. Go get Starbucks or something.” 

“A man after my own heart,” Ryan grinned. 

“I never said I was going to pay for you.”

Ryan gasped.

Shane snickered, let Ryan hit him again, and then tug him back to the front of the store. He paid for the glasses and then slid them back on his face, and Ryan took his hand and pulled him outside. His hand was ridiculously warm, and Shane didn’t ever want to let it go. 

_Shane…_

“Hm?” Shane blinked.

“What?” Ryan looked back at him.

“Did you say something?” Shane asked.

Ryan cocked his head. “No. Why?” 

“I just--” Shane paused. He felt something heavy settle in his stomach. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” 

Ryan frowned. His mouth opened, then closed. His fingers tightened on Shane’s hand, and he looked away for a moment before letting his eyes settle on Shane again with a smile on his lips. “Come on--there's a Starbucks just down the road and you owe me a pumpkin spiced latte.” 

“Those things are disgusting, Ryan.” Shane huffed, but he didn’t fight Ryan as he pulled him back to the car, and he happily pulled out a twenty a few minutes later to pay for a pumpkin spiced latte and a salted caramel frap and ignored the burn on his tongue as he forced it down his throat. 

\--

Later that night Shane lay on the couch in his apartment, resolutely ignoring the hissing voices in the shadows, and staring at Netflix’s _are you still watching?_ screen with Obi sitting perfectly still on his chest and looking towards the bedroom with wide eyes. 

It was well past midnight, and not even the quiet voice of Bob Ross could put him to sleep. 

Shane was starting to wonder if insomnia was contagious. 

He sighed, and Obi didn't even twitch at the rise and fall of his chest. 

He thought about texting Ryan to see if he was still awake. He probably was, but on the off chance that this was the one night a week where Ryan actually got a decent amount of sleep Shane didn’t want to disturb him.

Shane waited a total of two minutes before pulling up Ryan’s contact.

_U still up?_

Shane’s phone pinged twice.

_Yeah_

_Why?_

Then the chat bubble came up, disappeared, then came up again.

_Why are you still up?_

A little laugh bubbled it’s way out of Shane’s throat and lips. Obi still didn’t move at the motion. He didn’t even twitch, still staring at the bedroom with his pupils narrowed to slivers. 

_Insomnia is contagious apparently_ Shane texted, then _wanna go to IHop?_

Ryan’s response was almost immediate.

_Sure_

Shane grinned, and he texted back a quick _i’ll come get you._ Then he threw his phone somewhere on the other end of the couch, and that startled Obi enough to twitch his ear and let out a little _merp_. 

“Hey, baby,” Shane held Obi against his chest as he sat up. “I gotta get up, okay?”

Obi put his paws on Shane’s shoulder, still looking at the bedroom. 

“What on earth are you looking at?” Shane tilted his head to try and get a look into the bedroom. The lights were off, but Shane could see everything just fine, and nothing looked out of place. “It better not be a fucking mouse.”

Shane was going to be so mad if it was a mouse. 

Obi’s ear twitched again, but he still didn’t move. 

Shane frowned.

He stood and set Obi down on the couch. Obi stayed still for a moment, then clambered up onto the arm and sat, tail wrapping around his paws as he kept staring at the bedroom. He didn’t look scared, just...alert. 

“Alright…” Shane took a step back. Obi kept staring. “I’m gonna head out so...um, be good, okay?” 

Obi’s ear twitched.

Shane stared at Obi for a moment longer. Then he shook his head and went looking for his shoes and a pair of pants. 

\--

It was roughly four in the morning, and besides the waiter and the cooks, Shane and Ryan were the only ones in the building. They were sitting across from each other in a booth tucked away in the corner, and while Ryan was looking around Shane took the time to look at him. 

He was...well, he was beautiful. Even in his disheveled and sleep deprived state and with the low lighting of the building doing absolutely nothing for him, he looked beautiful. 

“Well, this is unsettling,” Ryan looked back at him. Shane offered him up a smile.

“It’s all part of the IHop charm, baby.” Shane flipped open his menu, although he already knew what he wanted. “Empty and desolate for you in the morning so you can regret your life in peace.” 

Ryan snorted out a laugh just as the waiter came up to them.

“What can I start you out with?” he looked tired, and Shane felt a little bad for coming in. 

“Coffee, please,” Ryan managed to recover enough to get it out.

Shane stayed silent, and when the waiter--his name tag read Doug--finished writing that down Shane asked for a glass of water. The idea of anything else made his stomach feel heavy and queasy. 

The waiter nodded, then hurried back off to the kitchen. 

“Is that what we’re doing here then?” Ryan asked. “Regretting life choices?” 

“And I wanted pancakes,” Shane snapped his menu shut. 

Ryan let out another laugh. 

Sometimes Shane wished he could bottle Ryan’s laughter. He wished he could carry it around in his pocket and pull it out whenever he wanted to--listen to it whenever he was sad or upset or just missing Ryan. 

Shane wished for a lot of things when it came to Ryan. 

“You couldn’t have just done that at home?” 

“You can’t make genuine questioning-life-choices-IHop pancakes, Ryan,” picked up the straw the waiter had left for them, tapping it on the table till it poked out of the paper wrapper.

_Shane _

_...come to us…_

_SHANE_

Shane blew the wrapper at Ryan and ignored the voices. He was ridiculously sleep deprived, after all. Hadn’t quite slept right since Alton, and that was several weeks ago. At least, that’s what he was going to blame it on. 

Ryan batted the wrapper out of the air, and Shane laughed. 

“Why the fuck am I friends with you?” Ryan huffed.

“Because I buy you coffee and let you sleep at my place.” Shane answered. “And I take you to IHop at four in the morning.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, but didn’t disagree. 

Doug came back with a glass of water and a cup of coffee, scribbled down their orders (chocolate chip pancakes for Shane and blueberry for Ryan), and then left again. He looked even more tired than last time, and Shane found himself feeling sorry for the guy. 

“I want to try something,” Ryan said. He was ripping open sugar packets and pouring them into his coffee. “It’s going to sound stupid, but just bear with me.”

Shane frowned. “What is it?”

Ryan picked up a salt packet. He ripped it open, then dumped it on the table between them. 

“Touch that.”

“Really, Ryan, come on--”

“Please, just--” Ryan cut him off. “Please, Shane.” 

And Shane...well, Shane couldn’t ever really say no to Ryan. 

Shane sighed as loudly as he could just so Ryan knew how stupid Shane thought this entire thing was, then reached his hand across the table to touch the salt pile. As soon as his skin made contact with the tiny crystals he jerked his hand back, knocking over his glass of water and hissing at the burn that shot up his arm. 

“Jesus _Christ_\--” Shane shook his hand, and when that didn’t do anything to dispel the pain he clenched his fingers as tightly as he could, hoping to fight pain with pain. “--_fuck!_”

Ryan was looking at him with wide eyes. 

“Shane--” Ryan started.

“Don’t.” Shane hissed it out. “Do _not_ give me some demon bullshit, Ryan.” 

“That’s not a normal allergic reaction, Shane!” Ryan hissed it right back. “So how about _you_ don’t give _me_ that bullshit excuse!” 

“It is not a bullshit excuse!” Even as Shane said it he knew that’s exactly what it was. It was his last attempt to write this off, to give it a rational explanation, to give it _anything_ before he turned to Ryan’s three in the morning demon theories. 

Ryan was scowling. “Why do you have to be so goddamn--”

They snapped up as Doug cleared his throat, a plate of pancakes in each hand. 

“Would you like another water, sir?” he asked.

Shane blinked dumbly, then nodded. 

Doug set the plates down, cleaned up the spilled water, and then took the glass away and floated off. 

“...stubborn.” Ryan finished. 

Shane stayed silent for a moment, then turned back to Ryan.

“Because I’m not possessed,” the heat was creeping back into his voice and his chest and Shane was—well, he wasn’t angry. If he were going to use a word he supposed irritated would work best. “Do you have any idea how dumb that sounds?” 

“Like your salt theory is any better,” Ryan snapped back, then took a sip from his coffee for good measure. 

And well, Shane couldn’t exactly argue with that. 

“You also can't tell me with one hundred percent certainty that your not possessed.” 

“And _you_ can’t tell _me_ with one hundred percent certainty that I am.”

“No, but I can prove it.” Ryan looked triumphant.

“How?”

Ryan leaned forward across the table. Shane could smell the faded scent of his body wash and shampoo--honey and coconut and Old Spice. “Because you, sir, are going to try and walk into the church across the street when we’re done eating. Demon’s can’t walk on holy ground, Shane, even you admitted to that.” 

They stared at each other, having come to a stand still. Shane took an angry bite from his pancakes and Ryan took an angry bite from his. 

“That is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Shane got out between bites.

“Maybe,” Ryan agreed. “But you’re still going to do it.”

And fuck him, but Shane absolutely was. 

\--

The church was a little not many folk come around here kind of church. It was tiny and pleasant looking, some would even say cute, and it was so small that Shane almost missed it even as he and Ryan were walking up to it. 

And yet Shane felt such an instinctive fear deep in his bones at the sight of it that he couldn’t even begin to fathom or explain. 

“Go on in, big guy.” Ryan nudged his shoulder.

Shane didn’t move. He shivered from the cold wind biting through his jacket, but he didn't take a step forward. 

“Shane, come on,” there was just a touch of panic creeping into Ryan’s voice. “This isn’t funny.”

Shane swallowed. “No. It’s really not.” 

There was something that was keeping Shane back--some part of him that was screaming at him to stay right where he was. And that bone deep fear that was working its way through Shane’s body to kept him right where he was, about ten or so feet away from that little unassuming church. 

Ryan’s eyes went wide and he took a step back, and that hurt Shane more than anything else. “Holy shit--” 

“It’s good to see you have some sense, Mr. Madej.”

Ryan screamed and Shane jumped. 

“We were beginning to think that you were completely stupid.” There was a person standing behind them, well dressed in a crisp black suit and smiling brightly and standing even further back from the church than what they were. “Although not even I would stand that close to holy ground.” 

“Um, that’s...I’m sorry, do I know you?” Shane was desperately trying to place a name to the face before him.

“Only in name, I’m afraid.” the person blinked, then smiled a little wider. “I am Lord Beelzebub, First Duke of Hell and advisor to Lord Satan, our most unholy majesty. And you, Mr. Madej, have been ignoring your summons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't remember when they actually shot the goatman episode, but it's fall now so if I want it to be fall here than it will be.


	3. Chapter 3

Shane sat in the tiny living room of his tiny apartment, Obi in his lap and Ryan sitting close enough to him that their arms were pressed up against one another, staring blankly at the television screen. 

It wasn’t playing anything. 

Shane didn’t want it to. 

_“Ignoring my summons?”_

_“What did you think all those voices were?” Beelzebub’s smile fell. “Little bugs? A fly you couldn’t get out of the house?”_

_“I--”_

_“You’ve been hearing voices?” this time Ryan spoke, turning to look up at Shane. The fear was still there, clouding the pretty brown of his eyes, but it had shifted from a fear of Shane to a fear for Shane. “Shane why didn’t--you didn’t say anything.” _

_“I didn’t want you to worry,” it came out as something a little above a whisper. _

_Ryan scowled. “Yeah? Look how that turned out.” _

_“Ry--”_

_“What the hell, Shane? You can’t just--what the actual hell?”_

“Shane?”

“Hm?” it took a moment for Shane to drag his eyes off the television. Even then he didn’t look at Ryan; just a little above his shoulder at the window. 

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked. 

Shane blinked once, and did not answer for a moment. “I don’t know Ryan, what do you think?” 

He couldn’t keep the sarcasm and desperation out of his voice. He wanted to, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

_“If you two are quite done,” Beelzebub cleared their throat. _

_Shane and Ryan both turned to look at at Beelzebub. They arched an eyebrow, and Shane and Ryan glanced back at each other, then looked back to Beelzebub. _

_“You need to come back to Hell, Mr. Madej,” Beelzebub continued. “There’s paperwork we need to finish to complete the transaction, as well as fully transferring ownership of the Alton Bridge over to you--”_

_“He’s not going anywhere!” Ryan placed a hand on Shane’s wrist and stepped in front of him._

_Shane loved Ryan’s little bursts of bravery, but he hated when they came at the entirely wrong moments._

_Beelzebub gave an exasperated sigh. “That is not up to you, Mr. Bergara--”_

_“What do you mean, transaction?” this time Shane cut Beelzebub off, but he still stayed behind Ryan for all the good that did. _

_Beelzebub’s nostrils flared and Shane was pretty sure they were biting their tongue. Both literally and metaphorically. “You issued a challenge, Mr. Madej, and Steve failed to meet the requirements--”_

_“His name is actually Steve--?” _

_“--and you were given ownership of his bridge.” Beezlebub continued on like Shane hadn’t spoken. “Your challenge also, however indirectly you said it, called into question Steve’s own standing as a demon. He also failed to meet those requirements.” Beezlebub’s lips twitched up into a smile. “Not that I’m upset about it.” _

_“But I didn’t--I was just--”_

_“It does not matter if you didn’t mean it. The deal has already been completed.” Beezlebub cocked their head. “Congratulations. You are now officially the Seventh Duke of Hell and owner of Alton Bridge, Mr. Madej."_

“You don’t need to get snippy with me,” Ryan both looked and sounded hurt, looking almost like a scolded child from where he sat swaddled in a blanket, and Shane immediately felt guilty about it. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just--” Shane sighed and leaned a little bit more against Ryan. “I’m freaking out a little bit.” 

Ryan snorted. “That’s a huge understatement.” 

“I just figured out my entire world view is wrong, Ry, cut me a little slack,” still, Shane laughed. Even though he felt like crying, he still laughed. 

“You also have your own personal army of demons.” Ryan added.

“Yeah. There's that too.” 

_“I’m what now?”_

_Beezlebub paused, looking Shane over with quickly widening eyes. “...you really didn’t know, did you?” _

_“No, I didn’t! So if you could explain to me, in full detail, what exactly the fuck is going on, that would be pretty damn fantastic!” Shane snapped it out, yanking his wrist from Ryan’s hold as he threw his hands up in the air. He wasn’t scared so much as he was just frustrated and angry at these half answers Beelzebub was giving him. “Fucking specatular, even! A whole god damn bitch of an idea!” _

_Beelzebub looked startled. They blinked slowly, looked Shane over, then smiled. “You’ll do just fine, Mr. Madej.”_

“Is is too soon to say I told you so?”

Shane looked at Ryan. “Will it stop you if I say yes?”

Ryan smiled, and Shane sighed. Obi stirred, sleepily opening his eyes to look at Ryan, then Shane. Then he opened his mouth in a yawn, shifted so he was closer to Shane’s stomach, then fell asleep again. 

“I told you so.” Ryan said.

“I hate you.” 

“No you don’t.”

No. Shane really didn’t. 

_Doug looked startled to see them back in the corner booth, and Shane gave him a bright smile. _

_“Back for round two,” Shane said, shooting Doug a wink as he spun on his heel and went back to the kitchen. _

_When he turned to look back at Ryan, Ryan was scowling at the retreating waiter. _

_“I suppose it’s a conselation to know you aren’t as dumb as we thought,” Beezlebub frowned at the pile of salt that was still on the table, then looked up at Shane. “You didn’t touch this, did you?”_

_They pointed at the pile._

_“Yup.” Shane popped the ‘p’. _

_“He’s also been drinking salted caramel fraps like water,” Ryan was still looking at the waiter when he said it, so it took a few moments for the words to sink in. When it finally did he snapped his head up, looking at Shane from across the booth with wide eyes. “You--Shane!” _

_Shane shrugged. _

_“You are such a fucking--ugh!” Ryan threw the wadded up straw wrapper at him. It bounced off Shane’s shoulder and landed in Beelzebub’s lap. _

_Beelzebub looked at Shane with arched eyebrows._

_“In all fairness, I didn’t know I was—“ Shane waved his hand. “—possessed, or whatever this is.”_

_It sounded so ridiculous coming out of his mouth._

_“You are not possessed, Mr. Madej,” Beelzebub flicked the straw wrapper to the floor. “What you are, is a demon.”_

_Both Shane and Ryan froze. _

_“A what now?” _

_“A demon,” Beezlebub repeated. “And a powerful one at that.”_

“Didn’t Beelzebub say you were in charge of a level of Hell?” They had been sitting in silence for a while when Ryan finally spoke, startling Obi with the soft lilt of his voice and sending a pleasant shiver down Shane’s spine. 

“Seventh circle,” Shane mumbled. “Seventh Duke, seventh circle.” 

He ran his hand down Obi’s back to sooth him.

“Oh.” 

Shane hummed. It sounded strange when he said it out loud. This entire thing was strange, but speaking it out loud gave it a sort of finality to it that Beelzebub couldn’t seem to get across. 

“I mean, it’s…” Ryan trailed off, his fingers playing with the hem of Shane’s shirt as he tried to find his words. Shane didn’t think Ryan knew he was doing it. “...it’s kind of cool, right? Being in charge of an entire section of Hell?” 

_“You summoned him. You performed the proper rituals--three knocks, salt circle, blood sacrifice--”_

_“Shut up.” Shane said. “It was--I cut my self on accident--”_

_Shane’s hand had slipped on the metal after he had knocked on it, slicing open the skin on his finger. Ryan had laughed and searched for band-aids while Shane hissed and cursed, flicking his hand to rid the pain of it and--he realized with a growing horror--splattered the tiniest bit of blood on the bridge._

_“That does not mean anything.” Beelzebub scowled. “You still performed the ritual. You still made the deal.”_

_“But--” _

_“Steve was a Duke of Hell--the Seventh, to be more precise.” Beezlebub looked at the pancake skeptically, but still cut off a piece and put it in their mouth. “In claiming his bridge, you also claim that title and all the responsibilities that go along with it. You can not claim that and then abandon it--”_

_“No! No way!” Shane dropped his fork onto the plate. Ryan jumped at both the clatter and Shane’s outburst. “I can’t--you can’t just put me in charge of--of a_ sector _or whatever the fuck it is--”_

_“It’s a_ circle_,” Beezlebub wrinkled their nose. “And I can, Mr. Madej. The deal of a demon is binding--you can’t break it.” _

_“But I didn’t even know I was making a deal!” Shane protested. _

_“Well, that’s unfortunate, isn’t it?”_

Ryan stirred. He had drifted off to sleep a little while ago, his head falling onto Shane’s shoulder. Shane hadn’t moved except to turn off his phone alarm when it sounded, not wanting to wake Ryan and disturb the only sleep he’s probably had this week. 

“What time is it?” Ryan’s words came out slurred and almost illegible. 

“Little after nine,” Shane answered. 

Obi woke at Shane’s words, blinking twice before standing and kneading his paws into Shane’s stomach as he stretched. 

Ryan blinked slowly, and then his eyes widened. “Shit--Shane, we--we’re supposed to be at work.” 

Shane groaned and threw his head back against the couch. His head smacked back against the wall hard enough to make a loud thud and cause Ryan to wince, but any pain Shane was supposed to be feeling at that wasn’t there.

Obi jumped off Shane and padded to the food bowl, sat in front of it, then yowled. 

“Okay, you, uh--you go take a shower and I’ll--I’ll go find you some clothes,” Shane slowly eased off the couch, throwing his arms above his head to work out the kinks in his back and neck. “I’m sure I've got something around here.”

Obi yowled again.

“Okay,” Ryan stood. He looked at Shane, eyes searching for something that Shane couldn’t even begin to wonder what it could be. He lifted a hand, letting it hover close to Shane’s cheek for a moment before letting it fall back to his side. “Okay.” 

“Ry? You okay?” 

“...yeah. I’m fine, Shane.” Ryan gave him a soft smile, then turned and headed towards the bathroom. 

_“No. I’m not going.”_

_Beezlebub looked furious. _

_“Not--not right now, I--” Shane was reeling. “I can’t.”_

_Here he was, sitting in an Ihop at six in the morning with a demon beside him as his entire mental structure and view of the world shifted on a 180 degree axis. He felt nauseous. He felt like he should throw up. He felt like he should cry. _

_“He’s not going. Ever.” Ryan cut in. “He’s got a life here with—“ he paused, throat bobbing as he swallowed. “He’s got family, and friends and—and a job—“ _

_“That’s of no concern to me. Shane Madej has left a vacancy in Hell, and he must fill it.” _

_“You can’t just—“_

_“I will give you time,” Beezlebub cut Ryan off, but did not look away from Shane. “Not much. But I will give you some. Use it wisely.” _

_Shane blinked, and Beezlebub was gone._

“I’ve gotten myself in a pickle, Obi,” Shane sighed, leaning back against the counter as he watched Obi drop his head in the now full food bowl. “And I’m not sure how to get out of it.”

Obi looked up, spitting out food as he meowed. 

Shane shook his head, watched Obi for a moment longer, then pushed himself off the counter and went to the bedroom in search of clothes small enough for Ryan. 

\--

“Here,” Shane shoved a pair of faded red jeans and a black button up that was just on the edge of too small at Ryan as soon as he stepped into the bedroom. “You’re going to have to roll the pant legs up, but they should fit in the waist.” 

Ryan blinked. He still had the towel draped over his head and water dripping from his hair. 

“Thanks,” he took the offered clothes. He looked at them for a long time, and Shane was about to wave his hand in Ryan’s face when Ryan snapped his eyes back up. “Um...the...the shower’s open, if you want it.” 

Ryan’s cheeks were flushed a pale pink, and he all but shoved Shane out the door. 

Shane blinked as he stood in the hall and the door clicked shut behind him. He looked down at Obi, who was rubbing against his legs and purring up a storm. 

\--

“So, what were you two up to last night?” Andrew slid into the chair next to Shane’s, propping his elbow up on the desk and dropping his cheek in his palm. 

“Nothing! We just--we just went to Ihop for a very early breakfast,” even as Shane said it he couldn’t bring himself to look away from Ryan. 

He had been struggling with that ever since Ryan stepped out of his room wearing his clothes.

“Uh huh,” Andrew sounded like he didn’t believe him at all. “Sure.” 

Shane did look at Andrew at that, his lips twisting into a frown while Andrew’s twitched up into a grin. “You, sir, can shut up.” 

Andrew looked absolutely delighted and like he was going to do the exact opposite of that. 

“I’m serious, Andrew. Nothing happened.” 

Well, _a lot_ had happened, and Shane was still struggling to process it. If he were being honest, he didn’t think he would ever be able to fully process it--how could he? He had just learned that everything he ever thought was probably wrong and he himself was one of those things that he had always called fake. 

“Shane…” Andrew frowned and sat up straighter.

“No. Nu-uh. Nothing happened and nothing will happen,” Shane stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back by a few feet. “I’m--I’m gonna go get some water.”

Shane’s ongoing three o’ clock in the morning panic attack had come crashing back full force, the panic and adrenaline singing through his veins and pushing down on his chest. He could feel his hands start to shake again and his lungs grown heavy and compressed, and he dashed off to the nearest bathroom before Andrew could stop him. 

He threw the door open and all but crashed into the stall in his haste to get inside it, slamming the door shut loud enough to make his ears ring. Then he pulled the lock shut, slid to the floor, and promptly forgot how to breath. 

Shane couldn’t tell you how long he sat there. 

It felt like hours. It was probably only minutes. He didn’t know. It was too long. Not long enough. 

“Shane?”

Shane opened his eyes. He didn’t realize he had closed them. 

“Shane, can I come in?” Ryan’s voice sounded from just outside the stall door. He hadn’t even heard the bathroom door open. 

Shane didn’t say anything, but he did slide the lock out of the catch. The stall door creaked open a moment later and Ryan slipped inside, closing the door behind him. 

“Can you—“ Shane could hardly get enough air to talk. “—can you lock it?” 

Ryan did, then sat on the floor next to Shane. 

It was way too small in the stall for two grown men, but Shane could hardly care less about the cramped space. He tucked himself into Ryan’s side, dropping his head onto his shoulder while Ryan snuck his arm around Shane’s shoulders. He forced himself to match Ryan’s breathing when Ryan asked him to, closing his eyes and eventually evening out his breathing enough to take in the harsh smells of old spice and toilet and floor cleaner and honey and something that was just Ryan. 

“Sorry,” Shane croaked out. 

“You’re fine, Shane,” Ryan’s voice was soft and quiet; a pleasant rumble in his chest. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I just—“

“It’s okay.” Ryan hummed something soft, his hand running up and down Shane’s shoulder. “It’s a lot to take in and I’m—I’m kind of surprised you didn’t freak out about it sooner.”

A laugh startled out of Shane.

“I think—“ he sniffed and _fuck_, when had he started crying? “—I don’t think I actually realized until now, to be honest.” 

Ryan smiled and held Shane a little closer. He sat in silence and let Shane get everything out, let him finish crying and get his breathing back under control and calm down, and when Shane took one last shuddering breath he softly asked “do you want to go home?”

Shane nodded.

“I’m going to go find Quinta, and then I’ll be right back, okay?” 

“No!” Shane was just as startled by his outburst as Ryan was. “I—I’ll come with you.” 

“Okay,” Ryan faltered for a moment, but didn’t question Shane’s request. He held out his hand and helped Shane up and didn’t try to take his hand back as they walked out of the bathroom and Shane squeezed Ryan’s hand hard enough that it had to hurt. 

They found Quinta easily enough, and she took one look at Shane and Ryan and sent them on their way. 

\--

“I need to text Andrew,” it was late at night now, and Shane had spent a good hour in his shower crying and shaking and refusing to look in the mirror. Ryan had let him, and when Shane finally emerged in a cloud of steam Ryan bunded him up in a blanket and set him on the couch with Obi in his lap, falling next to him and putting on Netflix. “I just walked out on him--”

“I’ve been texting him, don’t worry,” Ryan waved his phone around.

Shane blinked. “Oh. But still, I should...I should probably do that.” 

The effort to reach for his phone seemed like too much, and so Shane didn’t move. 

Ryan smiled, and didn’t say anything about it. 

They sat in silence for a while, Ryan on his phone and Shane looking out the window. It was the middle of the night, but the sky was still so bright and for a moment Shane found himself missing the moon and the stars. 

“Ry, I--uh,” Shane cleared his throat. “I think I’m gonna go to...to Hell.”

Ryan snapped his head up. “What? Shane, no--” 

“I’m glad to see you’ve finally come to your senses, Mr. Madej,”

Both Shane and Ryan screamed, startling Obi awake. Ryan threw his phone, and Beezlebub easily sidestepped it. It landed with a dull thud next to Obi’s cardboard box. 

“What the fuck, dude?” Shane all but yelled it, and Beezlebub didn’t even bat an eye. 

“If you will please step into the circle,” Beezlebub took a step off to the side, holding out a hand to indicate the freshly scorched linoleum. “The sooner we complete the paperwork and official transfer, the sooner you can come back topside.” 

“He doesn't have to stay?” Ryan looked completely bewildered. 

Beelzebub scoffed. “Of course not. We’re not _animals_, Mr. Begrara. The only ones we keep in Hell are the ones that need to stay there.” Beelzebub then smiled. “Most of Mr. Madej’s duties are topside anyway.”

Shane blinked. “Why the fuck didn’t you say so?” 

“We thought you knew.” Beezlebub looked from Ryan to Shane, then gestured to the circle again. “Now if you please, we’re on a tight schedule.” 

Shane looked at Ryan, and Ryan looked at him with wide eyes. 

“I guess I’ll, uhh…” Shane jerked his head at Beelzebub.

“Right, yeah,” Ryan nodded. “I’ll just...I’ll stay here, I guess.” 

“Watch Obi?” Shane asked.

A little laugh escaped Ryan’s mouth. “Yeah--Yeah, watch Obi.” 

They fell into silence. Not an akaward one, but one that was still strange and unsettling. Shane cleared his throat and stood, and then Ryan’s hand clamped around his wrist and almost yanked him right back down. 

“I--” Ryan closed his mouth and swallowed, glancing over Shane’s shoulder. Then he looked back at Shane, his eyes darting to his lips for a moment before coming back up to lock eyes. “Just--come back, okay?” 

“I will,” It felt like there was more that needed to be said. Shane couldn’t possibly think of what it was, because this wasn't a final goodbye. 

“Now, Mr. Madej,” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Shane sighed, then spun on his heel and stepped into the circle. He wondered for a moment if he would be able to get the scorch marks out of the floor. “So how does this work--?”

Beezlebub snapped their fingers, and the last thing Shane saw was Ryan looking at him with wide eyes and Obi skittering off to the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy Halloween, you dingbats


	4. Chapter 4

Hell was like nothing that Shane had expected. 

It was all oak hardwood flooring and charcoal subway tiles and cozy fireplaces and armchairs and helpful receptionists sitting at fancy front desks—complete with gold embellished name tags and pull string lamps. 

“Um,” Shane could hardly take his eyes off it all. “Isn’t—and I don’t mean to be rude here, but isn’t Hell suppose to me more...I don’t know, Hell?” 

“This is the business side of things, Mr. Madej.” Beelzebub ushered him onto an elevator with gold gated doors and a stumpy little man in a fancy uniform to press the buttons “Floor seven, please—the damnnation and torture happens on the other side of Hell, usually in the lower circles.”

“Oh.” 

The elevator dinged.

“Have a lovely evening, Duke Beelzebub,” The little man opened the doors for them, and nodded at Shane. “Duke Madej.” 

Beelzebub pushed Shane out before he fully had time to process that. 

“Your office is just down here.”

“My _office_?” 

And sure enough there it was, a heavy oak door with frosted tinted glass and gold lettering that read _Shane Madej -- Seventh Duke of Hell_. 

Beelzebub pushed open the door. It was dark and dusty and smelled like must and goat. “Mephistopheles will be with you in a moment.” 

Shane turned around, but Beelzebub had already closed the door and left. Shane huffed, and, deciding not to dwell on it, wandered further into the office. He found the lightswitch and flicked it on. The lighting was low and soft and warm and didn’t hurt his eyes, and Shane had to fight back a happy little sigh that wanted to leave his lips. There was a lovely dark wooden desk situated right in the center of the room with a rather obnoxious wingback chair to go with it. 

Shane rather liked it. 

He would have taken a picture and sent it to Ryan had he not left his phone back in the apartment. 

Shane felt an odd sadness creep up into his chest the longer he thought about it, so he pushed it to the back of his head and sat down in that obnoxious chair and was pleasantly surprised at how comfortably he sank back into it. There was a Mac sitting in front of him--the latest model, too--and Shane booted it up before snooping around the rest of the desk.

A mug full of pens and pencils (Bic pens and the wooden pencils that Shane hated), another pull string lamp that, when turned on, gave off just as soft of a glow as the overhead light did, a framed photo of him and Ryan at Knotts Berry Farm when they had filmed a bit for the channel, and a worn mouse pad that had a photo of a renaissance style painting of Dante and Virgil. 

Shane did a double take at the photo of him and Ryan. 

It was a candid photo of them sitting on the sidewalk and laughing--Shane couldn’t remember what it was they had been laughing at. One of the camera people had taken it, and Shane had printed it off and put in his apartment.

“They like to put in personal touches for the higher ups,” a young woman stood in the open doorway, and she smiled and knocked when Shane looked up at her. “Hi! Mephistopheles, here to do the dirty work.” 

She stepped in and held out her hand , laughing at Shane’s hesitant look.

“We only do blood deals here, Mr. Madej. Soul on soul exchanges between demons hasn’t been legal for years now.” She smiled even brighter. “No need to worry.” 

“Oh. Blood deals. Of course.” Still, Shane shook her hand. 

“I will say, it’s wonderful to finally meet you,” Mephistopheles set a stack of files on the desk, then sat in the chair across from it. She pulled a pen out from the mess of red hair piled atop her head, a few of her curls coming loose with it. “Beez has told me _so_ much about you.” 

“Good things, I hope.” Shane suddenly felt extremely nervous. 

“It's been nothing but. Beez has a soft spot for you,” Mephistopheles winked. 

“Oh.” 

“Now then,” Mephistopheles opened her file, shuffling through the papers and pulling some out as she went. “We’ll get through this as quickly as we can--don’t want to keep you away from your boy toy for too long.”

“Ryan’s not--” Shane’s protest fell of deaf ears. 

“The only thing we have to worry about is power, property and position transfer--the three P’s I like to call it--so all you have to do it...dot here, here and here!” She marked three different lines on three different papers, handed a pin to Shane, then looked back up at him with a grin. 

Shane blinked, then looked up at Mephistopheles. “Doesn’t goatman get a say in this?”

“Well, he _could_ take it to Virgil if he really wanted to, but it was a legitimate transaction so Virgil couldn’t do anything anyway,” she shrugged. “And I mean, Steve and Beez were butting heads a lot. It doesn’t surprise me that he quit.” 

Shane frowned, torn between feeling offended and relieved. “So he just dumped all this on me?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Mephistopheles leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms over her chest and giving Shane a bright grin. “You have a very strong human soul, Mr. Madej. _I_ certainly wouldn’t want to fight that.” 

Shane must have looked confused enough, because Mephistopheles leaned forward again and patted his hand. 

“Take it as a compliment.” She smiled. “Now, let’s get all this busywork out of the way.” 

Shane looked back down at the paperwork. He glanced it over, and it was only when he was done reading it that he noticed it was written in a language that wasn’t English--wasn’t written in anything he had ever seen, actually.

“It’s Enochian,” Mephistopheles answered before Shane could even ask. “Everything look about right?” 

For being a document written by demons, it didn’t have--as far as Shane could tell--any loopholes.

“Yeah, no it uh--it looks fine.” Shane cleared his throat.

There was a beat of silence, and then Mephistopheles was shuffling closer.

“I know how scary this must seem,” she was smiling when he looked up, her dark skin looking darker in the shadows. “I was in this exact position, so believe me when I tell you I know.” 

Shane took a deep breath.

He could swear that his ribs shook with it.

“It’s just--I didn’t even mean to do this, ya know?” even Shane’s voice sounded shaky. “I just wanted to…” 

He trailed off, not even sure what he had wanted in that moment.

“To make Ryan a little less scared?” Mephistopheles asked.

“Yeah. I...yeah.” Shane felt his lips quirk into a small smile, then he snapped his head up and looked at Mephistopheles with wide eyes. “How the hell did you--?”

“Faust didn’t become all knowing on a whim, Mr. Madej. It had to come from somewhere.” Mephistopheles grinned. “And besides, the fact that you did all this on accident makes it all that more miraculous, don’t you think?” then she frowned. “Well, maybe miraculous isn’t the right word.” 

That startled a laugh from Shane, and Mephistopheles looked absolutely delighted by it.

“Yeah--no, that’s not the word I would use.” Shane wheezed it out. 

“Damnable, perhaps?” Mephistopheles asked. Shane laughed a little harder, and Mephistopheles grinned a little wider. “Oh, I _like_ you, Mr. Madej.” 

“Shane. Call me Shane,” Shane took a deep breath to get rid of the last of his giggles. “Calling me ‘Mr.’ makes me feel way older than I am.” 

“Shane,” Mephistopheles repeated. “I can do that.”

There was another knock at the door, and then Beelzebub poked their head in and immediately frowned. “You haven’t finished yet?” 

“I’m making friends, Beez.” 

Beelzebub frown turned into something closer to a disappointed straight line. “Satan needs to meet him before he goes back topside, ‘Les.” 

Mephistopheles waved her hand while Shane blinked.

“I need to what?”

“You _are_ an adviser, Mr. Madej.” Beelzebub was back to frowning. 

“It’s not a big deal. He mostly just asks for opinions on lunch.” and then Mephistopheles was frowning, and Shane felt a spike of fear not unlike what he imagined Ryan felt on Unsolved shoots. “You’re also in charge of the violent sinners, though...” 

“What the fuck does _that_ mean?” 

“Violent sinners receive violent punishments,” Beelzebub answered. “I do hope you’re not squeamish.” 

“Um--” Shane was fairly certain he sounded just as worried as he felt. 

“You don’t get a whole lot of souls down this far, though. Our most unholy majesty only needs your advice on things like that once in a blue moon” Mephistopheles was quick to butt in. “That’s why most of your duties are topside.” 

That sounded only slightly better. 

“Have him dot the papers, ‘Les. Satan does not like to be kept waiting, you know that.” 

“You are awful grumpy today, Beez.” Mephistopheles frowned. “Was it--did I do something?” 

Shane watched in amazement as Beelzebub smiled--actually _smiled_\--one of those soft smiles that looked a lot like the ones Shane gave Ryan when he didn’t think anyone was looking. Except Beelzebub was very openly sharing this one. 

“Of course not, dear.” Beelzebub answered. “It’s just been a busy day in purgatory, that’s all.” 

“Do we need a date night?” Mephistopheles asked.

“It that’s what you want.” Beelzebub was still smiling, but then they looked at Shane and immediately frowned again. “Five minutes, Mr. Madej.”

And then Beelzebub was gone. 

“Right, well,” Shane looked back at Mephistopheles. She was sitting back in the chair in front of him, pushing the papers and pin closer to him. “Let’s dot those papers, Shane!” 

Shane picked up the pin. 

“Blood deals, remember?” Mephistopheles reminded.

Shane sighed. “Right. Of course.”

He pricked his finger. 

\--

Satan was...not what Shane was expecting.

“Satan, bah! Formal titles are so annoying, don’t ‘cha think? Call me Luci, please.” Luci was about on par with Shane’s height, with bright blue eyes and a shock of golden hair so bright Shane thought for a moment that he might be looking at the sun. “I don’t meet many people my height.”

He held out his hand in greeting.

“I don’t either,” Shane took it. “I’m Shane.” 

“Yes, I know.” Luci grinned. “Took you long enough to get down here.” 

“Uh--” Shane took his hand back and Luci laughed. 

“Oh, don’t you worry, Shane. It’s not anything like that, I promise,” then he winked. “Michael still likes to share some tidbits with me over dinner.” 

Luci laughed again. 

They were in Luci’s office, which really wasn’t an office so much as it was an entire floor. He had the entire top floor all to himself, and the further you ventured in the messier it got. Right now Shane was looking at a window and a desk and letters scattered all over--floor, desk, walls, ceiling--and every time he glanced further down the hall he swore it kept getting messier. 

“You’ll do just fine here,” Luci clapped Shane’s shoulder.

“Thanks?” Shane wasn’t used to having someone actually be eye level with him. It was disorienting. “Um, Beezlebub mentioned something about topside duties…?”

“Oh! Right.” Luci took his hand back, and a paper popped into it. “Well, we don’t get many level seven sinners these days, so we moved Steve--now you, of course--topside to do surveillance for potential deals and lost souls. The bridge was home base, if you will, but that’s not set in stone, of course. We can move it if you want.” Luci looked up. He had on a pair of horn rimmed glasses. “LA seemed like such a better place for demonic activity, don’t you think so?” 

Shane shrugged. “I mean, I guess so.”

“Excellent!” Luci snapped his fingers. “Your home base has officially moved to Los Angeles, Shane.” 

“Thank you…?”

“You’re welcome!” the papers disappeared from Luci’s hand, and he pushed his glasses up to the top of his head. “Well, I think that’s about all I have for you today. Not much to do in the seventh circle, I’m afraid.” 

“Oh, that’s absolutely fine,” it slipped out of Shane’s mouth before he could actually stop it.

Luci blinked, then burst out into a bright ringing laugh. “Ha! You crack me up, Shane!” 

Shane gave a nervous smile. 

“Alright, alright--get outta here. Just come back next week for the weekly meeting,” Luci put his hand in the small of Shane’s back and started pushing him towards the elevator. “And bring Ryan with you. I love to meet important people before they’re important.”

“What?”

But Luci had already pushed him onto the elevator, giving him a little wave. Then the doors closed, and Shane was being brought down to the first floor. 

\--

“So, how was it?” Mephistopheles asked. 

“It was fine.” Shane took a slow sip from his coffee cup.

Mephistopheles hummed. “He’s never what anyone expects.”

They were sitting in the little café on the ground floor--aptly named _Brimstone and Fire_\--waiting for Beelzebub to get enough free time to send Shane back topside. 

Mephistopheles assured Shane that he had more than enough power to send himself back, but he didn’t have the first clue on how to go about doing it and Mephistopheles didn’t feel at all like teaching him how. 

“He’s...something.”

“He’s an idiot. You can say it, Shane,” Mephistopheles took a loud sip from her nearly empty frap. “A smart idiot, but still an idiot.” 

“I was going to say eccentric,” Shane offered. 

“Yeah. That too.” Mephistopheles smiled, then perked up and craned her neck to peer over Shane’s shoulder. “Beez!”

She waved, and Shane turned around to look.

Beelzebub was coming out of the building, their hair loose from its careful styling and suit jacket slung over their shoulder. Beelzebub looked exhausted and frazzled all at once, and Shane felt bad about having to ask them to send him home. 

Mephistopheles got out of the chair, standing on her tiptoes and tilting her face up. Beelzebub gave her the kiss she was asking for, then shoved a book into Shane’s chest.

“Learn how to travel.” they said, and when Shane blinked he was standing back in his living room, still holding his half finished coffee. 

“Shane!” Ryan threw the blanket off, almost tripping over it as he jumped off the couch and crashed into Shane. 

“Oof! Hey, little guy,” The breath was knocked from his lungs, but Shane still wrapped his arms around Ryan and hugged him back just as tightly as Ryan was hugging him. “I wasn’t gone that long, was I?”

“Just a few hours,” Ryan mumbled. Then he pulled back and tilted his head. “Was that--do you have coffee?” 

“Yup,” Shane answered. At Ryan’s quizzical look he tacked on “It’s really nice down there.”

Ryan tilted his head.

“I have an office.” Shane said. “With a Mac.” 

Ryan blinked, then he dropped his head onto Shane’s chest as he fell into a full bellied laugh. Shane grinned, and then he started laughing because really, this entire thing was fucking ridiculous. 

“Of--of fucking course you do--” Ryan wheezed it out. “Did--did they give you a fancy chair too?”

“Oh yeah. Wingback,” Shane snickered. “And red.” 

“Jesus Chris--” Ryan couldn’t even finish it, letting it trail into a wheeze he was laughing that hard. 

Obi came out of the bedroom to see what all the noise what about. He gave a loud meow to announce himself, weaved between Shane and Ryan’s legs, then went back to the bedroom. 

Eventually they calmed down enough to move back to the couch.

Shane picked up the forgotten blanket and Ryan dropped his head onto Shane’s shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he mumbled.

“I was only gone a couple hours.” Shane said, setting both the book and coffee down on the coffee table.

Ryan hummed and didn’t say anything in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am putting all my effort into the completely wrong thing
> 
> I think the Faust story I'm remembering is the one from the justice league cartoon, but I like the idea of Mephistopheles being a tiny energetic all knowing woman so I'm sticking with it and you can fight me


	5. Chapter 5

While Shane’s trip to Hell had been brief, he now understood with a shocking clarity why he was so cold all the time. 

“You gonna keep that one too?” Ryan arched his eyebrows as Shane snagged the sweater off the back of Ryan’s chair as he popped behind it. Shane knew he shouldn’t be practicing this whole _demonic travel_ thing in the office, but it _was_ a good spot to practice in. His own apartment offered very little space, and he didn’t dare do it in Ryan’s.

Shane tugged the sweater over his head and pulled the sleeves down to his palms as he fell into his own chair. It was bright yellow and soft and worn and quite possibly Shane’s new favorite thing. 

The sweater was big on Ryan, so it fit Shane just fine. 

“Maybe,” Shane grinned. “If you ask nicely I might give it back.”

Ryan rolled his eyes.

Shane hated being chilly all the time, and he hated that he couldn't make fun of Ryan for his own tendency to be cold anymore without repercussions. 

Shane hated that he hated that part the most.

“Anyway, I was looking at true crime cases, and—“ Ryan slapped a piece of paper in front of Shane. “--I present to you next season’s line up.” 

“We haven’t even finished filming the rest of supernatural.” Shane grinned and Ryan frowned. “Aren’t we filming next week?”

Ryan huffed. “Just read the damn thing.” 

Shane picked up the paper right as his phone buzzed about halfway across his and Ryan’s shared desk. He snatched it before Ryan could look at it, and he was only mildly surprised to find the incoming text messages listed under a group called _HELL SQUAD_—all caps with a little devil emoji—and a 666 area code.

_i gave Luci ur number _

_hope thats okay _

_ur coming to the meeting today right_

_this is mephistopheles btw_

_beez is in the chat 2 _

_they just dont like texting_

The messages came in rapid succession, leaving Shane no time to respond until they stopped. He went to text, but then another chat bubble popped up and Shane backed off. 

Hell’s employees had IPhones. Who knew?

**He’s most likely at work, ‘Les. **

_that means nothing _

_he can still answer_

Shane huffed and started typing before another chat bubble could pop up. 

** _I am at work, actually_**

** _But yes, I am coming today _ **

At least, Shane hoped he was. He hadn’t tried traveling long distance yet.

_ur bringing Ryan right _

_im putting Luci in the chat hold on_

His phone went silent, and then it buzzed again with the message of _‘Mephistopheles’ added ‘Satan, Our Most Unholy Majesty’ to HELL SQUAD_. It was immediately followed by _‘Satan, Our Most Unholy Majesty’ changed name to ‘Luci’._

_YOU WILL ABSOLUTELY BRING RYAN SHANE_

_I NEED TO MEET HIM_

**You can not just demand things like that, sir.**

**Mr. Madej has a personal life outside of his duties. He is allowed privacy in that.**

**It was in his contract.**

_I CAN AND I WILL_

**Of course, sir.**

**Although, if I may point out, you did write that contract.**

**You should know better.**

The chat went silent.

Shane’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, and he typed a few letters before deleting them. He blinked, then looked up at Ryan.

Ryan was looking at him, waiting patiently for Shane to finish. He looked startled when Shane finally looked at him, but he schooled his face so quickly that Shane wasn’t entirely sure. 

“What?” Ryan asked.

“Do you wanna come to Hell with me?” 

Ryan blinked.

“_What_?” he repeated. 

\--

Shane had drawn the circle and laid the salt and made the proper one-time-long-distance blood sacrifice, and now he stood in that circle in his living room, holding hands with Ryan and hoping that his palms were not as clammy as he thought they were. 

He had locked Obi in the bedroom.

Shane knew that he would try his best to follow Shane, and Hell wasn’t ready for the wonderfulness of Obi quite yet. 

“If I do this right--” Shane was holding the book Beelzebub gave him in his other hand, reading over the steps once last time. “We should end up in Hell’s main office building.”

“Should?” Ryan squawked it out, and Shane bit back a laugh. “Shane, if you kill me, I’m not going to forgive you for that.” 

Shane couldn’t hold back his laugh at that one. It spilled out of his mouth, and while he laughed Ryan grinned at him. He took a deep breath to get himself back under control, then snapped the book shut and shoved it in his pocket.

“Sure thing, Ry guy.” Shane squeezed his hand, took another breath, then closed his eyes and snapped his fingers. 

When he opened them again he was standing in the lobby of the office building, and Ryan was looking around with eyes wider than anything Shane had ever seen him do before. 

Shane managed not to fistpump in his victory, but only just. 

“It’s--it’s really nice, holy shit.” Ryan breathed it out. 

“Told ya it was,” Shane was smiling so softly at Ryan, and he was so glad that Ryan wasn’t actually looking at him to see it. 

“Shane!” Mephistopheles was waving at him from across the lobby, Beelzebub standing behind her. She turned to look back at Beelzebub and said just loudly enough for Shane to hear “See? I told you he could do it.”

“I had very little doubt.” Beelzebub responded. 

“But you still had some,” Mephistopheles grinned, then turned back to Shane and started a brisk walk across the lobby to him. 

Shane started across the lobby to meet Mephistopheles halfway.

He hadn’t realized he was still holding Ryan’s hand until he was tugging him along, and Shane only squeezed tighter instead of letting go. 

“Oh, I’m so proud of you!” Mephistopheles wrapped Shane in a hug that stole the air right from his lungs. “You’re learning so fast!” 

“Um, thanks?” Shane hugged her back with one arm, still refusing to let go of Ryan’s hand. 

If anyone asked him, he would say he was worried that Ryan might wander off. Which, to be fair, was a genuine worry on Shane’s part.

“And you must be Ryan!” Mephistopheles detached herself from Shane, offering her hand to Ryan with a grin. “I’ve been so excited to meet you!” 

Ryan, after sparing a glance at Shane, hesitantly took her hand at Shane’s nod. “Y--yeah?” 

“Oh, yes. You’re going to be a _very_ important man around here.” She winked. 

“ ‘Les, what did I say about giving away future information?” Shane blinked and Beelzebub was standing behind Mephistopheles, looking equal parts fond and exasperated as they looked down at her. Beelzebub shook their head as Mephistopheles grinned, then looked back up at Shane and Ryan. “Mr. Bergara, it’s lovely to see you again.” 

“You too.” Ryan gave Beelzebub a lopsided smile. 

“ ‘Les, dear, if you could take Mr. Bergara to the meeting room,” Beelzebub turned back to Mephistopheles. “I need to discuss some things with Mr. Madej before the meeting.” 

“Sure thing, babe,” Mephistopheles got up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Beelzebub’s cheek. 

“Thank you--and do be careful with what you say.”

“I always am.” Mephistopheles grinned, then took Ryan’s hand from Shane’s and held it.

Shane missed the warmth of it immediately, his arm jerking like he was about to take it back.

“See ya in a few!” Mephistopheles waved, then carted Ryan off towards the elevator before either Ryan or Shane could think to protest. 

Beelzebub placed a hand on Shane’s shoulder, leading him towards one of the benches scattered about the lobby. He sat down on the wooden thing almost mindlessly, and Beelzebub hovered over him for a moment before sitting down next to him. 

“I am not sure how everyone will react to you, Mr. Madej,” Beelzebub started. “Some of the other dukes quite liked Steve, and others did not. I certainly wasn’t fond of him, but…” they trailed off, scowled, then shook their head. “In any case, as the Seventh Duke, they will have certain expectations of you.”

“Oh. Cool. I love that.” Shane grimaced. 

“Being that you are in charge of the violent sinners, they will expect you to act as such,” Beelzebub continued. “I do not want you to suddenly change your personality, but just know that.” 

Shane took a deep breath and let it out. He hadn’t actually given himself time to think about the circle he was in charge of. It still seemed so fantastical. “I am literally the _least_ violent person you will ever meet.”

He itched to take off the sweater off. For the first time since he first left Hell he was actually warm, but the little bit of Ryan’s cologne that was still lingering on the fabric was intoxicating enough for Shane to keep it on.

“I think you would be surprised, Mr. Madej,” Beelzebub smiled and patted his knee. 

—

“So, what do you think of Hell?”

“It’s...it’s really nice.” Ryan still couldn’t get over it—all the wood and the gold and the fireplaces and the pleasant greetings everyone was giving him, like they were happy to see him. Some of them had even said so, waving and smiling and until Mephistopheles sushed them.

They passed by another fireplace, the blast of heat warming Ryan right down to his bones. 

God, there were so many fucking fireplaces. 

At least he finally understood why Shane was so cold all the time. 

“We keep the office buildings nice—no one wants to work in a brimstone cave, believe me. Been there, done that, wasn’t fond of it.” Mephistopheles smiled, stopping in front of a gold gated elevator. “But the other parts look exactly like you expect them too, I promise.” 

Mephistopheles ushered Ryan in the elevator, and a stumpy little demon in a bellhop uniform that looked like it came straight out of the twenties stood in the corner asking what floor he wanted. 

“Top floor.” Mephistopheles answered. 

The demon nodded and pressed the button. Then he looked at Ryan.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Bergara.” he said.

“Um...yeah you--you too.”

The demon nodded again, his cap falling forward on his face. 

“I’ve been watching your little show.” Mephistopheles said it without any prompt, and Ryan was so startled by it that he couldn't quite hold back his groan. “Oh, don’t do that! I like it!” 

“Oh god—“ Ryan’s cheeks got warm, and he hid his face in his hands so he wouldn’t have to look at her.

“No, seriously, I really like it!” Mephistopheles gently took Ryan’s hands in hers, pulling them back from his face and giving him such a comforting smile that Ryan couldn’t not look at her. Her hands were so warm--almost as warm as Shane’s. “It’s not easy entering possessed and haunted places like that--I can certainly see why Shane took Steve’s bridge so easily.” Mephistopheles smiled a little wider. “That boy of yours is an absolute spitfire.” 

Ryan sighed. “That's one way to put in, I guess.” then he blinked. “Wait, so are ghosts--”

“One hundred percent real,” Mephistopheles winked. “But don’t tell Shane I said that.” 

Ryan grinned, and the elevator gave a pleasant little chime.

“Your floor, Miss,” the demon pushed another button and the gate slid open. 

“Thanks, Gordi,” Mephistopheles handed the demon a little silver coin, then took Ryan’s hand in hers again and tugged him out. 

The floor they came out on was an absolute mess. Papers were scattered everywhere, boxes were pushed up against the walls, dust coated just about every surface and Ryan was pretty sure there was an animal skeleton lying about five feet in front of him. 

He really hoped it wasn’t a dog.

“Couldn’t even clean up for you, could he?” Mephistopheles huffed, kicking things out of her way as she dragged Ryan down the hall. 

The door they came too had a golden plaque that read Satan, Our Most Unholy Majesty and a paper handwritten sign that was tapped to the door and said KNOCK FIRST. Mephistopheles did not do that, and she pushed open the door, using more force that Ryan thought was necessary. 

A stack of papers crashed over, and the man sitting at the desk looked up from his book. Ryan was pretty sure that it was a Star Trek novel. 

“Do you not know how to read?” He pushed his hair back--a black so dark it looked like ink--and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, Ryan noticed. Just a pair of sweatpants. 

Ryan’s cheeks heated, and he looked away.

“Michael,” Mephistopheles greeted. “Where’s Luci?”

“Changing.” Michael answered. 

Ryan opened his mouth, wanted to ask, then thought better of it and snapped it shut. 

“I swear to god, Michael--”

“Oh, you shouldn’t do that, Mephistopheles.” Michael stood from the chair, setting the book down on the desk as he circled it. “He won’t listen to you down here.” 

“I actually hate you.” Mephistopheles scowled. 

Michael smiled. Then he turned to Ryan, pushing his glasses up to the top of his head as he looked him over. His necklace gleamed as the sun hit it just right--a silver chain with a silver sword charm. “You’re not exactly what I expected, Mr. Bergera.” 

“Important people are never what you expect, Michael.” another man came out from the back room, and the only thing Ryan could think was that he was just as tall as Shane was and the only thing he noticed was that the hem of his pants fell just above his ankle. “Now get out of here, I have a meeting in five minutes.” 

Michael smiled. 

There was a snap, the sound of wings beating, and then Michael was gone. 

“Was that--?”

“Archangel Michael, yes.” the man grinned at Ryan, then held out his hand. “Hi! I’m Satan! You can call me Luci.” 

Ryan took his hand and shook it slowly.

“It’s such a delight to meet you! Oh--you’re just as cute as I thought you would be!” Luci dropped his hand, then pressed his hands to Ryan’s cheeks and squeezed. “Shane is one lucky guy, I gotta say.” 

“We’re not--”

“Oh, pshaw--technicalities,” Luci waved his hand. “Who cares about technicalities?”

“You should, Sir.” Beelzebub was standing in the doorway, Shane peering over their shoulder. “They make up half of your required paperwork.” 

Luci blinked, like he wasn’t aware he even had paperwork. If Ryan had to guess from all the stacks of paper lying around, that was probably right.

“Sir…” Ryan could hear Beelzebub’s teeth grinding. 

“I’ll get to it, Beez,” Luci waved his hand again, then turned his attention to Shane. “Shane! Good to see you made it in one piece!” 

He slung an arm around Shane’s shoulders and drug him into the room. 

“You and Ryan will get to sit with Mephistopheles and watch us all bicker today--I don’t have any sinners that need to be punished by your hand, and thanks to that delightful show of yours your soul quota for the entire year is already met.” Luci grinned. “The internet. Such a wonderful invention, isn’t it?” 

“...huh.” Shane glanced at Ryan. He shrugged, and Shane shrugged back. 

The door opened again, and a woman with golden eyes and a hazy appearance slipped in. Ryan could have sworn she had black hair, but when he blinked her hair was a dirty blond. 

“Do any of you know how to knock!” Luci cried. 

“Oh, do calm down, darling.” The woman smiled. Her lipstick was bright red. Ryan blinked, and then she wasn’t wearing any. 

“Ryan, Shane, this is Asmodus,” Mephistopheles nodded at her. “The Second Duke of Hell.” 

“Hi,” her smile was crooked and lopsided. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bergara.” 

She took Ryan’s hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Her lips were warm and dry, and as soon as she pulled back Ryan took his hand back and shoved it in his pocket. He looked back at Shane to—apologize? Shrug? Smile?—and he couldn’t quite fully silence the gasp that worked its way out of his mouth.

“Shane—“ he rushed over to Shane, lifting his hands to cup Shane’s jaw and hold his head still. “Dude, your eyes are doing the thing!” 

“The thing?” Shane asked. 

“The thing!” Ryan repeated. “Your pupils are all—all goat-y.”

Shane blinked, and his pupils stayed slanted. It was unnerving, but then Shane’s eyes lit up and it looked a bit more normal. It looked a bit more Shane. “Oh! The thing!” 

“Ah. I see.” Asmodus’ voice floated over. “I didn’t realize he was already spoken for.” 

Ryan was so fascinated by Shane’s eyes that he didn’t even turn around to rebuff Asmodus’ commit.

Shane didn’t either. 

“You’ve seen them do this before, Ry,” Shane was smiling that dumb crooked smile that Ryan loved. He was distracted for a moment by it and he took a few seconds to memorize the lines that he had already memorized. Then he looked back up at Shane’s eyes, taking in the gold and the black and the few flecks of the original hazel that they had once been. 

Ryan was glad that a bit of the hazel was still there. 

“Yeah, well, it’s cool,” Ryan grumbled, tilting Shane’s head. 

Shane let him manhandle him, smiling through the entire thing. 

The door opened again, breaking whatever trance Ryan had been in. He turned to look at who came in and Shane peered over his shoulder. 

“Cain, baby!” Asmodus slung her arms around the mans shoulder, pressing an open mouthed kiss to his lips before he could protest. Not that he did.

Ryan looked away the same time Shane did. They locked eyes, and Shane grinned and wiggled his eyebrows while Ryan snorted and covered his mouth with his hand. 

“That’s Cain,” Mephistopheles popped up behind Shane. “The Ninth Duke of Hell.” 

“No making out in my office!” Luci snapped.

Cain and Asmodus pulled apart. Cain had lipstick smeared on his jaw. 

“Say hello to Shane,” Luci continued. “He’s my new favorite, since none of you can read my damn sign!” 

“Hi, Shane,” Asmodus purred.

Cain just offered a wave. 

“Now sit the fuck down. I wanted this meeting to be over an hour ago.” Luci flopped down in the desk chair. 

“Sir, not everyone is here.” Beelzebub didn’t necessarily sound like they cared about it. Only that it was more of a formality for them to remind Luci about it. 

“Yes, but I actually like you four,” Luci smiled. “That’s the important bit.” 

Beelzebub sighed, but sat down in one of the many chairs scattered about the room. 

“So! Update me! What’s going on in your little circles?” Luci clasped his hands together and leaned forward. His eyes jumped between the four of them, and Mephistopheles pulled out a notepad and started scribbling. “Cain? What’s up in the deepest pits of Hell?”

Cain lifted his hands and signed something. 

“Cold and boring.” Luci repeated. “Wonderful.” 

Cain gave a soundless sigh. 

Ryan glanced at Shane, and Shane shrugged. 

“Asmodus?”

“Busy, like it always is.” Asmodus crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip. She frowned, tapped a finger against her arm. “You promised me another torturer weeks ago, Luci. Where are they?” 

“The job position is open, but no one wants to take it,” Luci frowned. He reached for some papers, slapping them on the desk and shuffling through them. “I’m trying, As’, but I can’t just move people from circle to circle--more than half of these demons aren't going to be suited for the conditions in the second circle. They’ll burn to a crisp--and god knows I can’t afford to pull souls from the pit to fill those positions.”

Ryan hadn’t known Luci for long, but it was strange to see him take control of the room so easily. 

“I know, I know,” Asmodus sighed. 

“Cain could help you out--it’s been fairly slow in the ninth circle these past few weeks.” Luci offered. “If you’re up for that, Cain.”

Cain nodded. 

“Your wonderful, Cain. Don’t let Abel tell you different.” Luci shuffled through a few more papers, tugging one out from under a stack and sending the entire thing toppling over. “Shane, you need to meet with Alastair later this week about a few new souls—nothing you need to get directly involved with, of course.”

“Oh, um—“ Shane floundered, looking at Ryan with wide eyes. “The little guy and I were—“

“I’ll make sure it won’t interfere with your filming, don’t worry.” Luci offered him a smile. “Your soul collecting is way more beneficial than your punishing them.” 

“Oh.” Shane repeated. 

“So, I’ll get that scheduled—Cain and Asmodus, I’ll leave you to figure out a good schedule between you two, and Beelzebub!” Luci was scribbling about as fast as Mephistopheles was, dropping the pen when he yelled Beelzebub’s name. “How’s it going with you?”

“Fine, sir.” Beelzebub answered. “Quotas are being met, and souls are moving from purgatory in a timely manner.” 

“You don’t need any extra hands?”

“Not at the current moment.” 

“Excellent!” Luci staked the papers back on top of each other, setting them on top of the pile that had sprawled all over his desk. “You know the drill--any other complaints go in the box. Now get out of here. I’ve got a dinner date in five.” 

“Have fun with Michael--and get me that job filled!” Asmodus waved her hand, then looped her arm through Cain’s and tugged him out the door. 

Beelzebub was gone the moment Ryan blinked, and Mephistopheles packed up her papers and tucked her pen back into the curly mess of her hair. She grinned and winked at Ryan, and then she was gone. 

‘I’ll shoot you a text once I get those meeting details worked out,” Luci stood from the chair, sliding his glasses off his nose and tucked him in his breast pocket. Ryan hadn’t even realized he was wearing glasses until then. “See ya in a few days!”

Luci grinned, snapped his fingers, and then Ryan was standing next to Shane in Shane’s bedroom.

Obi _merped_ and flicked his tail, but otherwise didn't move to greet them. 

Ryan stood still for a moment, then leaned against Shane as laughter spilled from his throat. 

Shane wrapped his arm around Ryan to hold him steady, and it felt so good that Ryan didn’t pull away even after the laughter had died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My og plan was to introduce ALL the dukes in this chapter, but as I was writing it, it turned into way too many characters to keep track on in once scene


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed I never did this for the other chapter, but
> 
> ** _Shane_ **   
_LUCI_   
**Beelzebub**   
_Mephistopheles_

The letter had been sitting on Shane’s kitchen table for the past few days. He had gotten it the day after his and Ryan’s little escapade to Hell, and he had taken one look at the 666 postal code before throwing it on the table and promptly forgetting about it until Ryan came over to help him finish packing. 

They were heading to Philadelphia tomorrow morning, then off to the good ‘ol United Kingdom to finish up this season’s filming. 

“You should probably open that.” Ryan pointed to the letter, fumbling with a bag of cat food as he did so. 

Andrew had agreed to look in on Obi for Shane while they were gone, but Shane sure as hell didn’t trust him to get the right kind of cat food. Shane knew he would try and get that expensive shit that Obi wouldn’t eat.

Shane only knew that because he had done the same exact thing. That ten dollar bag of Rachel Ray cat food had been thrown out and traded for the five dollar bag of Friskies.

“Open what?” Shane turned around to see what Ryan was pointing at. “--oh.” 

He dropped the duffle bag he was holding onto the floor, picked up the letter and tore it open. Ryan hovered over his shoulder, and Shane waved him away as he took out a very old piece of parchment paper, a very new and crisp piece of printer paper, and an envelope. 

He set the printer paper down and looked at the parchment paper first.

_Mr. Madej,_

_Mephistopheles has informed me that she hadn’t yet gotten the Familiar Paperwork to you yet. You are not required a Familiar, but if you so desire to have one you may fill out the paperwork and return it to the PO box anytime within the next two weeks. _

_We’ve also scheduled Alistair to meet you next week in London, so your filming schedule won’t be interrupted. I will contact you later about a time and location._

_If you have any questions, feel free to email or text._

_With best regards,_

_Beelzebub_

The entire letter was handwritten in what Shane hoped was red ink. 

“Huh.” Shane glanced over the letter again, then to the other piece of paper. This one was printed with plain black ink, and the paper was full of dotted lines and check boxes and lists. 

He picked it up as Ryan came back to hover over his shoulder.

“What is it?” he asked. 

“Apparently I can have a familiar.” Shane mumbled it out while glancing over the different animals he could have.

Moth, iguana, kangaroo, rabbit, a fucking _pelican_\--

“What, like a witch?” Ryan snatched the paper from Shane and Shane snatched it right back. 

“It's like a--an immortal animal companion.” or so it has said at the top of the form.

“So like a witch.” Ryan snickered and Shane huffed. 

He caught a list at the bottom of the page that said _Existing Animal Companions_, and he turned his full attention to that. He scanned down the list, saw _Cat_ and a bolded box and a dotted line, and Shane whipped his head around to look at Obi. Obi _merphed_ and looked up at him, spitting out his food and padding over to weave between Shane’s legs. 

Ryan plucked the paper from Shane again. 

“_Existing Animal Companions_, huh?” Ryan glanced over the paper, then looked at Shane. “You gonna make Obi your familiar?” 

“Maybe,” Shane looked back up at Ryan and almost smacked his nose into Ryan’s. 

He hadn’t realized he had gotten that close, but Shane didn’t step away. He took in a breath and then stepped back, feeling just a little guilty that he stayed that close just so he could smell the mix of shampoo and cologne and whatever else it was that made up Ryan. 

“I’m sure Obi would love that,” Ryan hummed and handed the paper back to Shane. “Eternal life with you. Who _wouldn’t_ love that.” 

Ryan paused, then went silent. 

A strange look came over his face.

“I’m gonna, um…” he set the bag of cat food down on the table. He wouldn’t look at Shane. “...I’m gonna see if I forgot to pack anything.” 

“Okay,” Shane watched him walk back into the bedroom. 

He wanted to ask Ryan if he was alright.

He stayed silent. 

\--

Shane hadn’t ever realized just how _loud_ airports were. 

“You good, big guy?” Ryan’s voice was just as welcomed as the coffee he brought with it. 

“I’m--yeah, it’s just--” Shane took the Starbucks cup, holding it close to his chest. The warmth was pleasant against his skin, and Shane tried very hard to loosen his grip just enough to not dent the cup. He winced as a woman walked by, heels clicking against the tiles. “It’s just...loud.”

It came out as a whisper. 

“Shit, dude--” Ryan sat next to him. He pushed his body up against Shane’s, setting his own coffee down and fumbling for his headphones. 

Shane watched him plug the jack into his phone and pull up his Youtube app, absolutely transfixed by each miniscule movement of his hands. He pushed himself closer to Ryan till he was practically molded to his side, trying to leech off whatever heat he could. He would have burrowed himself in Ryan’s hoodie if he could.

Shane also hadn’t realized just how cold airports were. 

“Here,” Ryan handed him a headphone while he put the other one in his ear.

Shane took it.

He dropped his head on Ryan’s shoulder, nestling the headphone comfortable in his ear. Shane could hear Ryan’s heart rate pick up ever so slightly, but he didn’t say anything about it. It was a sound Shane preferred to the hustle and bustle of the airport anyway--more muted and more steady. 

Ryan hit a vine compilation that he and Shane had watched enough times that they both could quote the entire thing. 

“Thanks, Ry.” 

“ ‘course,” Ryan smiled and sunk a little lower in the seat. Shane adjusted accordingly, but didn’t peel himself away from Ryan’s side. 

Shane had noticed over these past few weeks that Ryan had toned down the cologne and hair products--really, had toned down every scented thing he wore. As much as he could get away with, at any rate. 

He thought Ryan had done it for him, and when he asked and Ryan waved him away without a solid answer Shane _knew_ it was for him.

That had made Shane’s heart do funny things in his chest, and he had to go stuff himself in a break room until his face wasn’t so flushed. Andrew had found him like that, and he had only given him a smile before walking back out again.

Ryan had found a nice in between in the volume where it wasn’t so loud that it didn’t hurt Shane’s ear, but it wasn’t quiet enough that Ryan couldn’t hear it. It drowned out the noise of the airport, at any rate, and as Shane settled in and sipped his coffee and watched the video he couldn't quite keep himself from smiling. 

\--

Shane’s head felt like he had taken both a jackhammer and a sledgehammer to it at the same exact time. His skull ached and his ears rang, and Shane wanted nothing more than to lay down and close his eyes. 

The airplane had been so much worse.

“We should probably invest in some noise blocking headphones, huh?” Ryan asked, and at Shane’s wince he immediately lowered his voice to a whisper. “Sorry.” 

“No, you’re fine,” Shane sighed. “I just gotta--gotta get used to it.” 

He had gotten used to the hustle and bustle of the office--hell, he had gotten used to the noise of LA, he should be _fine_. 

Ryan stayed silent for a moment. They watched the bags roll by on the conveyor belt, and when they both had theirs they wandered back to a bench to wait for the rest of the crew to grab theirs. 

The airport seemed almost quiet now.

“Maybe you could talk to Beelzebub,” Ryan started slowly, fiddling with the tag on his suitcase. “They might know something that could help.” 

Shane hummed softly. “Yeah, maybe.”

He pulled out his phone, and even though it made his head hurt approximately one hundred times more he still pulled up the HELL SQUAD group chat and shot off a message. 

** _Heightened demon senses_ **

** _How do I deal_ **

** _Specifically in the noise department_ **

His phone buzzed frantically in his hand not even a second later.

**I’ve heard noise cancelling headphones are wonderful.**

_YOU DON’T_

_YOU SUFFER_

_stfu luci_

_just like listen to music_

_or ryan_

Shane shut his phone off and shoved it back in his pocket.

“Not helpful?” Ryan asked. 

“Not in the slightest.” 

\--

The hotel room was better. 

Ryan has left all the lights off--not that it helped Shane much--and he sat on the bed and scrolled through Twitter while Shane laid on the other bed with his eyes closed. He hadn’t slept—not for a lack of trying—but when he opened them again about an hour later his head hurt less and his ears had stopped ringing. 

Shane watched Ryan for a bit.

He was laying on his side, arm tucked under his head. The dull light of his phone gave his face an almost ethereal looking glow, highlighting the line of his jaw and cheek bones. His eyes looked brighter too, highlighted by the phone light and half lidded as they followed the scroll of his twitter feed.

Shane watched Ryan long enough for it to pass into the uncomfortable territory, then he sat up and yawned and stretched and made as much noise as he possibly could. 

Ryan still jumped. 

“Hey, big guy,” Ryan threw his phone down and sat up, knocking a pillow off the bed in the process. “Feeling any better?”

Shane watched the pillow fall before looking back at Ryan. “Let me pop an Excedrin and I’ll be right as rain.” 

Ryan wheezed, and Shane smiled. 

“Your phone has been going nuts over here, by the way.” Ryan leaned over the other side of the bed to pick up Shane’s phone from the floor and take it off the charger. His shirt rode up, and Shane’s eyes followed the line of Ryan’s back before snapping back to his eyes as Ryan turned back around. 

“Yeah, I heard it.” Shane mumbled, catching his phone as Ryan tossed it to him. 

There were a few twitter notifications from the things Ryan spent the past hour retweeting, a couple emails, and a text from Mephistopheles in the group chat that said _shit is he dead?_ Shane thought about answering it, but then his phone buzzed again from a text from Luci that said _HE CAN’T DIE YOU IDIOT_ and Shane tossed his phone back on the bed before he had to get into that topic of conversation.

“Teej and a few other guys were thinking about going drinking tonight,” Ryan was looking at his own phone, eyes darting up from the screen to meet Shane’s. “But I mean, you probably don’t want to…” 

Shane could feel how soft his smile was, and he almost hated it. “I’m down for the count, Ry, but if you want to go--”

“Nah, I’d rather stay with you.” Ryan grinned, and Shane’s heart did a little pitter patter against his ribs. “_Someone_ has to make sure you don’t overdose on Excedrin.”

“You are a gentleman, truly.”

Ryan just smiled a little brighter. Then that odd look crossed his face again. 

He looked down at the bed, running his hand along the blanket. “Can you even--I mean, not that I would actually let you--but can you like, actually overdose?”

“I--” Shane paused. His answer would normally be yes, but it wasn’t like he was a normal human being anymore. “I--I don’t know…” 

“I mean, you’re technically immortal now, right?” Ryan looked up at him, but just as quickly looked back down at the blanket. “Demons are immortal.” 

It sounded almost painful, the way Ryan said it. 

It sounded like it physically hurt him to let the words leave his mouth with how breathy it sounded, and Shane could believe that it did because it hurt him just as much to hear it. 

He knew, logically, that he would have a prolonged lifespan at the least. Mephistopheles had talked about it a little bit, and Beelzebub had mentioned it once or twice. Even Luci had said something about it. But knowing it and hearing it were two entirely different things. 

“Shit--” Shane’s voice cracked. “I--_fuck_.”

He didn’t notice Ryan getting off the bed and sliding into his. He didn’t notice Ryan pushing himself against his side until he was already there, wrapping his arm around Shane’s shoulder. 

Ryan held Shane until he got his shit together, running his hand up and down Shane’s arm and breathing in time with him.

“I’m not sure how I feel about eternal life,” Shane finally croaked out. 

Ryan let out a wet sounding laugh. “You’ll get to spend it with Obi, at least.” 

“Yeah, but I don't--” Shane stopped. Swallowed. “I’d come visit you.”

It was not the idea of immortality that frightened Shane so much as it was the idea of living it without Ryan. 

“You’d better. Otherwise I’d have to go ghost and haunt you.” Ryan pulled him just a little closer and squeezed just a little tighter. “And I really don’t want to do that.”

Shane huffed. “You can’t do that, because ghosts aren’t real.” 

They were, they absolutely were because Mephistopheles couldn’t keep her mouth shut about it and Shane would be an idiot to not believe an almost all knowing being, but it felt nice to throw in the argument. 

Ryan didn’t say anything, just hummed. 

They were going to have to properly talk about it--more specifically Shane was going to have to talk about it--but tonight was a good night for watching shitty movies on demand and ignoring a looming existential crisis. 

And maybe, just maybe, it would be a good night for laying on Ryan too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and you thought it was going to be all fluff. you fools
> 
> this is a little shorter than normal, but I didn't want to get into the ghost hunting and Alistair and then have to split it up


	7. Chapter 7

Hunting ghosts had been...different. 

Different, in the fact that now Shane could actually _see_ the ghosts. 

He had had a hard time adjusting to that. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah--yeah, Teej, I’m fine. Just tired.” Shane gave him a smile that he hoped was reassuring, but probably came off as more pained than anything else. “I didn’t sleep much last night.”

That little bit was true, but the part about Shane being tired was not. He didn’t think he was actually capable of being tired anymore, but it was much easier to explain away the haunted look in his eye that way than admitting that he had stared at dead people for the entire night. 

Dead people, who thought Shane had finally come to help them cross over. 

Shane, who had absolutely no intention or any idea on how to cross people over. 

It had been a long night and a long text conversation with Luci, who, in the end, just told him tough shit. 

Ryan, however, was perfectly fine. 

He was dead to the airport they were currently sitting in, happily asleep and using Shane’s arm as a pillow. One hand was curled tightly around Shane’s wrist and the other was loosely holding his phone—he had been playing music for Shane earlier, and now YouTube autoplay had taken over. 

It was playing some dumb Jason Mraz song right now. 

“Right,” Teej didn’t look all that convinced, but he dropped it. “Well, I’m going to get some coffee—you want me to get you some?” 

He gave him and Ryan a once over, and Shane felt oddly embarrassed at Teej’s smile. 

Shane nodded, going still again when Ryan shifted. “Please.” 

Not that it would do anything. Coffee, as Shane was quickly finding out, didn't give him that pleasant little buzz anymore.

“Sure thing.” 

Shane watched Teej wander off, then glanced back down at Ryan. 

His face was smushed up against Shane’s shoulder, mouth just ever so slightly open. His hand had tightened on Shane’s wrist, and he shuffled a little closer and tilted his head just enough to bury his nose in the junction of Shane’s neck and shoulder. 

Shane wanted to take a picture. 

Shane didn’t want to move and wake Ryan. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you looked at the situation, Shane didn’t have to do either. His own phone buzzed in his pocket, which meant he didn’t get to take a picture. It also meant that he didn’t have to wake Ryan, because the obnoxiously loud buzzing did that for him. 

Ryan lifted his head and blinked sleepily at Shane, then he jerked back with his eyes significantly wider.

“I--shit, dude, I didn’t mean--” 

“It’s fine, Ry, don’t worry about it.” Shane cut Ryan off before he hurt himself trying to apologize, pulling out his phone to spare a quick glance at the screen. It showed a text from Beelzebub, and Shane shoved it right back in his pocket. “You were keeping me warm anyway.”

Ryan blinked again. “Do you, um...do you want my jacket?” 

Shane had planned to say no, was going to say no, but the _yes please_ slipped out of his mouth before he could really stop it. Not that he was that upset about it--Shane was cold, and Ryan’s jacket smelled really nice and it did a good job of blocking out the shitty airport smell. 

Ryan smiled, draped his jacket over Shane, then settled back against him. 

It wasn’t as close as they had been before but their shoulders were still touching, so Shane would count that as a win. 

Ryan scooped up his phone, wincing once he actually looked at the screen. “That’s vastly different from what we started at.”

He went to change the song, but Shane stopped him. 

“No, it’s--I like it.” 

Ryan looked surprised. “Didn’t take you for _a falling in love at a coffee shop_ kinda guy.” 

“It’s a nice song, Ryan.” 

Ryan smiled and didn’t say anything more, and if Shane thought of that smile as they listened to the rest of the song then that was no one's business but his. 

\--

“You didn’t answer.”

“I was busy.”

As soon as Shane stepped off the plane his phone was angrily buzzing again, and seeing that Beelzebub was calling this time, he answered it. 

Beelzebub was silent for a moment. “Yes, well, Alistair is waiting for you outside the airport.”

Shane stopped dead in his tracks, causing Ryan to bump into him. 

“Shane, what--?”

“I didn’t--I didn’t realize we were meeting so soon.” Shane stepped to the side so Ryan could continue on, mouthing at him to grab his bag as well. 

“I wanted to wait a few more days, but Alistair insisted I’m afraid.” Beelzebub sounded irritated, which immediately set Shane on edge. As far as he knew, Beelzebub didn’t _get_ irritated. Beelzebub, if you could excuse Shane’s choice of words, had the patience of a saint. “If you have any trouble with him, call either me or Luci immediately. Understand?” 

Ryan came back over to him, both bags in hand and head tilted in question. 

“Yeah--yeah, I will, I promise.”

Beelzebub let out a soft sigh, and then, “Have a good rest of your trip, Shane.” 

Then they hung up. 

“What was that all about?” Ryan handed Shane his bag. His fingers lingered over Shane’s just a tad longer than they should have, but Shane didn’t dare say anything.

“Alistair is waiting outside.”

Ryan blinked. “Oh, uh, do you--do you want me to wait here?” 

“No!” Shane said it just a little too quickly, but Ryan didn’t seem to notice. “No, I--you can come with me.”

_Please come with me_ Shane didn’t say. 

“Don’t stress yourself out, big guy.” Ryan gave him a grin. 

Shane rolled his eyes, but he kept a firm hold on Ryan’s shoulder as they weaved through the airport terminal. Ryan did shoot off a text to Teej letting him know they were outside, but other than that he kept his hands firmly at his sides and his eyes looking straight ahead. 

It was so much quieter outside. 

The buzzing in Shane’s head calmed down, and he stilled for a moment to take in a deep breath to get rid of the smell and aftertaste of the airport terminal. The sunlight felt nice--everything felt so nice and Shane didn’t want to move. He wanted to stand there and just soak it all in. 

“So you’re the man that’s got Hell all in a tizzy.” there was a man who looked the very definition of scruffy a few feet away from them, lounging against the wall of the building. He grinned when Shane made eye contact. “My _goodness_ you are tall.”

He pushed himself off the wall and made his way towards them, hips swaying and grin still firmly locked in place.

“Is that how you scared Steve off?” he asked. “Sheer intimidation by height?” 

“I take it you’re Alistair?” 

Alistair grinned wider. “Got it in one, my _lord_.”

Every word that came out of his mouth was dripping in sarcasm, and Shane didn’t like it one bit. 

“I’m gonna lay it to you straight,” Alistair clapped a hand to Shane’s shoulder, and Shane really didn't like that. “I liked Steve. You, I’m not so sure.” 

“You don’t need to like me.” Shane lifted Alistair's hand and did his very best to try and not fling it off. He wasn’t entirely sure he was successful with that, because Alistair stumbled back and looked startled. He blinked, then scowled, then caught sight of Ryan. 

“Well, if it isn’t Ryan Bergara in the flesh! I was starting to think you weren't real with how much everyone is talking about you.” He stepped closer again, dragging his eyes up and down Ryan. “You don’t look anything like I expected.” 

“Are you done?” Shane slid in front of Ryan. 

It didn't take a genius to figure out Ryan was uncomfortable.

Alistair took a step back, but he recovered quickly enough. “Karkel was right, you _are_ overprotective.” 

Shane narrowed his eyes. “You’re here on business, Alistair. Not for a dick measuring contest.” 

That set Alistair off.

“I don’t know what you did to oust Steve, but don’t go thinking you’re some hotshot just because you did.” he scowled, stepped right up to Shane till they were practically touching. “I don’t have to listen to you just because you got lucky--” 

“Give what you came here to give me.” Shane cut him off, held out his hand, and hissed.

He had not been trying to do _that_, but it got Alistair to back off, so Shane would take the hissing.

Alistair's eyes flicked from Shane’s to Ryan’s. Then he snapped a file and pen into his hand and shoved them at Shane. 

Shane watched him stomp off to sulk on a bench before opening the cover. It was several forms, all aptly titled _Sinner Punishment Form_. He glanced over them briefly to see the names and crimes, then he clicked the pen and checked the _crime committed as punishment_ box on every paper, signed the bottom, bit his thumb and smeared his blood next to his signature. 

The paper smoked a bit and his signature glowed, then stopped just as quickly as it had started. 

“Wait here,” Shane snapped the file shut and gave Ryan a smile. 

Ryan blinked. “Uh--yeah, yeah, sure, big guy.”

His cheeks were flushed. 

Shane nodded, gave Ryan another smile, then headed back over to Alistair. 

“It was lovely meeting you.” Shane shoved the file back at Alistair, then spun on his heel and went back over to Ryan without another word. 

His cheeks were still pink, and when Shane slid up to him he tapped the side of his face and cleared his throat. “You, uh--your eyes are doing the thing.”

Shane blinked. “The thi--oh!”

He slid his glasses from his shirt pocket and popped them on.

“Better?”

“Yup.” Ryan’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat again to try and cover it, and Shane decided to be nice and not say anything. “Yup, you--yeah.” 

Ryan spotted Teej and the rest of the crew, and he took off towards them. 

Shane went to follow after, pausing for a moment to slide his phone out of his pocket as it buzzed. 

_JUST GOT YOUR PAPERWORK_

_ANY TROUBLE WITH ALISTIAR?_

Shane hummed.

**_I handled it_**

He sent off the text and headed over to his crew with a new bounce in his step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really really wanted the meeting with Alistair to be it's own chapter, so that's why its shorter than usual.
> 
> We'll now get back to our regularly scheduled longer chapters 
> 
> (the song choice was just because that's what I was listening to at the moment)


	8. Chapter 8

“What makes your phone more interesting than me, sunshine?”

“Sorry, sorry, I just--” Luci sighed. He turned the phone off, threw it on the bedside table, then shifted around till he was looking at Michael. “I worry about him--you _know_ I get worried.”

Michael hummed. “They’re going to start to think you pick favorites.”

Luci scoffed. “They already know I pick favorites.” 

“So they do.” Michael smiled, lifting his arm so Luci could squish himself against his side. Michael’s wings flared and snapped out, then settled against Luci’s back in a gentle hold. “He handled Alistair just fine.”

The only people who could handle Alistair were Luci, Beelzebub and Asmodus. 

Michael gently drug his knuckles up and down Luci’s arm and over the bruises he had just left. He could feel Luci shudder each time he touched the darkened skin, and on his next pass he pressed down just enough to hurt. Luci tensed, then sighed. 

It was a lovely sound. Michael wanted to bottle it up.

“It’s not that, Mikey, I just--I worry about both of them.” 

“Angelic grace and demonic blood is never a good combination, I admit. But so saith the lord--”

Luci smacked him. “No prophetic speech in my bedroom. You fucking know that.” 

Michael grinned, and before anything else could be said on the matter he was pinning Luci under him and making sure he couldn’t talk for the next several hours. 

So saith the lord indeed. 

—

Shane was not having a good night. 

Their Jack the Ripper escapade had been fine. The Viaduct tavern had been not so fine, but Shane had gotten Ryan back inside before _that_ went any further. The catacombs had also been fine. The ghosts wandering down there were too sick and disease ridden to notice either of them, and if they did Shane ushered Ryan along and gave them a good glare and scowl so they stayed away.

Colchester Castle, however…

Oh, Shane was not liking Colchester Castle.

“Shane, are you alright?” They had taken a break to change out batteries. Ever since Shane started going all demony their tech and his phone had been dying a lot faster, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to say _oh yeah I think that’s me_ (he certainly didn’t feel nearly as exhausted after these ghostcapades as he used too). Ryan, ever the one to notice Shane’s distress, made a beeline right towards him. “You look a little out of it, big guy.” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” Shane gave him a smile that felt just a little too tight.

He didn’t want to worry Ryan with his new found _I see dead people_ technique, but sometimes Ryan was too damn inquisitive for his own good. Or maybe he knew how to read Shane just right, or maybe Shane was being that obvious.

“No, tell me what’s wrong.” Either way Ryan scooted closer, knocking their shoulders together. It sent a pleasant little jolt of warmth down Shane’s arm. “Are you tired? Sick? I mean, I know you don’t really get tired anymore but are they—“

“I can see them.” Shane blurted it out. 

He hadn’t meant to, but being around Ryan tended to make Shane do things like that. He had less of a filter would be the more accurate thing to say, but Shane was too distressed at the moment to think about _that_.

He had just barely adjusted to this whole demon thing, and throwing ghosts into the equation wasn’t helping him. 

Ryan blinked. “See what—oh.”

Shane’s throat felt tight. He nodded, and looked down at the floor. He couldn’t see the dead woman standing in the corner if he looked at the floor. 

She had been following them since they stepped foot in the castle. Shane didn’t think she was actually aware that she was doing it. 

They fell into silence, broken only by the background noise of the crew and the humming of the woman and the other ghosts wailing and calling throughout the castle, but only Shane could hear those last two. 

It was chilling to listen to. Voices where there wouldn’t be voices. Echoes bouncing off stone walls and mingling with the other castle sounds. Crying—there was a lot of crying. But the woman’s song was the most unsettling. She was humming and mouthing words that Shane didn’t understand and it sounded so incredibly _close_ to him, despite the fact that he was all the way on the other side of the room. He hated it, but it was even worse looking at her while she did it. 

There was nothing in her eyes as she mouthed those words. 

Shane wanted to cry for her.

“How long have you been able to—?” 

Shane braved looking back up.

Ryan wasn’t looking at him like he expected an answer. He was just looking at him, eyes soft, mouth turned up in a small smile, hand bracing Shane’s knee, ready to shoulder and carry whatever it was that was about to come out of Shane’s mouth. 

God, Shane loved him. 

“Since Penhurst.” Shane mumbled.

Ryan’s hand squeezed, but no sound left Ryan’s mouth. 

Shane could only stand it for so long. “Just say it.”

“So you were freaked out because of ghosts.” Ryan grinned, letting Shane smack him once as payment before moving out of the way. His hand didn’t leave Shane’s leg. “Still, this isn’t—it’s gotta be pretty jarring, right?”

Shane nodded. “It’s--God--they look--”

He couldn’t put a word to it. 

“Dead?” Ryan offered.

Shane rolled his eyes. “You're not funny, Ryan.” 

“Excuse you, I’m very funny.” Ryan knocked their shoulders together, and Shane pressed himself close before Ryan could pull away again. 

Ryan didn’t try to pull away anyway. He stayed close, the tension in his body that filled him during ghost hunts leaking out with every breath he took in time with Shane.

He was so warm--Shane didn’t think he had ever realized just how warm Ryan was before. It felt nice with the cold drafty air of the castle, and Shane could have stopped himself from looping his arm though Ryan’s and pulling him closer, but he didn’t. 

Ryan probably could have stopped himself from scooting closer and pressing his side right up against Shane’s, but he didn’t either. 

“There’s a ghost in here, isn’t there?” Shane tilted his head in question, and Ryan reached up and lightly tapped the side of his glasses. “Your eyes are doing the thing.”

“They are?”

Ryan nodded. “They always do it when you’re around the other demons, too.” 

“I--huh. I never noticed.”

“That’s because you can’t see your own eyes, dumbass.” 

“Hate to break up your cuddling session,” both Shane and Ryan jumped, but didn’t pull apart. Shane hadn’t noticed Teej coming up to them, and he frowned while Teej smiled. “But we do have filming to do.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Shane waved him off, and with great regret detangled himself from Ryan. The chill seeped right back into his skin and a god awful shiver raced up his spine. He was so over this _being cold all the time_ thing, so while Ryan stood Shane snatched the back of his jacket and tugged it until Ryan slipped out of it. 

Ryan rolled his eyes and shoved the jacket at Shane. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Shane grinned, slipping the jacket on and skipping after Ryan and back to the crew. 

The woman, who hadn’t made any acknowledgement of noticing him, suddenly did. She stopped singing, and when Shane looked at her again she was looking right at him. Shane made eye contact, and her long dead eyes sparked with life and recognition. 

“You--” she lifted a hand, then dropped it just as quickly. She couldn’t hold her arm--it was bent at an odd angle. Her voice didn’t sound quite right either. It sounded like she had to force it out of her. “No, not you.” 

Her eyes flicked to Ryan, who was trailing after Mark as they left the room. 

“Shane, you coming?” 

It was a monumental effort to drag his eyes away from her. “Yeah.”

Shane hurried after them, and when he glanced back over his shoulder, the woman was still looking at Ryan. She stepped away from her corner with a jerk. Shane narrowed his eyes and she stepped back. That glaze fell over her eyes again, and she started humming again. 

“Shane?” Ryan fell back, coming to stand by Shane. “What's up?”

Shane blinked. “Nothing.”

Ryan peered back into the room. He couldn’t see the woman, but Shane could feel Ryan tense beside him, could feel the shiver zap down Ryan’s skin. “What’s um--what’s in there?” 

“Just a girl.” Shane looked down at Ryan. “She’s not doing anything.”

“...oh.” Ryan’s voice was quiet. 

Shane put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder and gently steered him away from the room. “Come on, little guy, we’ve got other ghosts to bust.” 

That startled a laugh out of Ryan, and Shane did his best to ignore the woman as she slowly followed them out. 

He had been doing his best this entire trip to ignore the ghosts following them. One more wouldn’t hurt. 

—

“You need to get him a familiar.” 

“I know, Bez, I know.” Luci sighed, setting down the paperwork he had been looking over as Beelzebub popped into his office. He had been waiting for them, actually. “Mephistopheles sent out the paperwork before they went to London--we’re just waiting to get it back.” 

Beelzebub narrowed their eyes. “We don’t have time for that. Assign him one.”

“That’s not how familiars work, you know that.” Luci slid his glasses off, dragging a hand down his face. It didn’t make him feel better. 

Shane’s powers were growing way too fast for his body to handle. No one in Hell had noticed until their little stint in London. Micheal, the absolute bastard, had, and he hadn’t said anything to Luci until last night. He had dropped a casual _Shane and Ryan are creating a feedback loop, you know_, and then left in a flurry of feathers. 

Feedback loops.

God, Luci hated feedback loops. 

He could say that with complete confidence, having been in one himself. Was still in one, to be honest.

“He has a cat, doesn't he?” Beelzebub asked.

“I’m not just going to make his cat his familiar.”

“You might have to.”

Luci sighed again, something deeper and more tired. 

Nothing catastrophic had happened, not yet. Their London trip had been nothing more than ghosts and spirits following Shane and Ryan around and trying to pass over.

Ghosts did that every time a demon went Topside. The problem lied in the quantity of ghosts that had been tailing the two. It had been ridiculous, and it was nothing short of a miracle that Shane and Ryan hadn’t been drained by it.

That was the miracle of angelic grace, Luci supposed.

Shane, by himself, wasn’t difficult to keep track of. His powers were already well documented, and Luci knew what to look for to keep Shane adjusted so he didn’t die from the overload. Ryan was the outlier in this equation. He had been gifted by Gabriel, and Gabriel hadn’t bothered to tell him yet, and Luci wasn’t allowed to interfere in Heaven’s affairs anymore. 

And Michael was right. Angelic grace and demonic blood didn’t mix, especially in a feedback loop like this.

But that was the problem with these feedback loops. They were hard to predict at the best of times, and the last time a powerful demon mixed with angelic grace--well, Lucifer had fallen from Heaven the last time.

Things were happening too fast, and Luci could hardly keep up with it. 

“Sir, you need to do something.” Beelzebub’s voice snapped Luci back. “Shane may be able to sustain the loop, but Ryan can’t.” 

Luci groaned.

He hated being in charge. 

“Go Topside. Get Shane to fill out the paperwork but don’t you _dare_ tell him what’s happening.” Luci narrowed his eyes at his First Duke. “I’ll talk to Michael. See if he can’t get me in touch with Gabriel.” 

The familiar was only a temporary fix, but Shane wasn’t the problem here. The problem was Ryan, and Luci couldn’t do anything about that one. 

Ryan didn’t have much angelic grace, but it was enough for a devastating outcome if left unchecked. 

\--

It wasn’t until Shane was back in his apartment, Obi in his lap and Ryan sleeping off the jetlag on the couch, that he realized he had thought the words _I love Ryan Bergara_. 

It wasn’t until he was drinking his second cup of cocoa and watching the moon rise that he realized that Ryan had said it back. 

And it wasn’t until Beelzebub had popped into his apartment and Shane was telling them to _be quiet, Ryan is sleeping_ and _he didn’t sleep much in jolly ol’ England_ and ushering them to the little kitchen and filling out that familiar paperwork Mephistopheles had left that he realized he might actually mean it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh look at that. A plot.


	9. Chapter 9

Michael had known about Ryan Bergara long before Lucifer fell from heaven. 

He knew, because it was his job to know these things. 

Angel grace was a dangerous substance, but God had chosen to taint the purity of a few humans with it anyway for no other reason than he could. Michael had been indifferent to the idea of it--he had been given the task of keeping God’s humans safe and Michael was going to do just that regardless of who had angel grace mixed with their souls--but The Metatron had cared greatly. 

_Look at what happened to your dear Lucifer_

_Look at what happens when things get tainted_

_Look at what happens when you think you can mix purity and sin, when you think you can touch him_

The Metatron hated having his words broken, hated having God contradict them, hated _Lucifer_.

“Look after these humans,” God had told him. “Look after them, and keep them from sin.”

_It is your repentance, for thinking you could save Lucifer_ had gone unsaid.

But the thing was, Michael also knew about Shane Madej. 

And so, since the first time Michael had been created, since the first time he woke in God’s cold hand, since the first time he thought he could lay down his sword and a fight he didn’t believe in and take up Lucifer’s hand instead, he sinned. 

Michael had made a promise he had no intention of keeping.

And he was finally going to break it. 

\--

“Did Beelzebub stop by last night?” Ryan stumbled into the kitchen much more coherent than Shane thought he would be, wrapped up in the knitted throw blanket with Obi dutifully following after him. “Or was I just hallucinating?” 

“You were, in fact, not hallucinating.” Shane passed over a cup of coffee to Ryan. “They needed me to fill out paperwork.” 

Ryan cradled it close to his chest, holding it close enough that the steam fogged up his glasses.

“The familiar thing?” Ryan asked, and Shane nodded. “Huh. Wonder why they needed that so fast.”

“I’ve just stopped questioning it, to be honest.” Shane poured himself a cup of coffee, following after Ryan to the kitchen table. Obi, not to be forgotten, yowled until Shane detoured to fill his food bowl. 

It was strange, looking at this little cat now, knowing that Shane was going to live the rest of his immortal life with him. 

There was a whole process to choosing a familiar. Beelzebub had tried to explain it to him last night, and Shane had tuned out when Beelzebub started talking about making emotional connections with a familiar or the magical connection wouldn’t form properly. He already had Obi, and Shane didn’t want to go through the painstaking process of gaining trust and love again. Obi had been hard enough to coax into loving him, and Shane wasn’t keen to do that again.

“That cat is going to be the happiest thing that’s ever existed.” Ryan mumbled. 

He took a slow sip from his mug, eyeing Obi over the rim. 

“No need to be so jealous.” Shane grinned, and Ryan made a little humph noise. 

Ryan looked sleepy and rumpled and just a little bit scared as he glanced at Shane, and it was then that Shane knew he was most definitely in love with the man that sat across from him at his little kitchen table. 

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment that he fell in love, but as he thought about it he realized that he had been in love with Ryan for a long time.

Shane just hated that now, when his life had literally gone to Hell, he finally realized. 

“Yeah, I guess he is.” Shane said softly, looking down at his own coffee mug. 

It hurt to meet Ryan’s gaze. 

“Hey.” Ryan smiled gently when Shane looked back up. It hurt just as much as it soothed. “Does that mean that all of Obi’s nine lives are immortal? Or is it just this one?”

It was the last thing Shane was expecting Ryan to say, and he was so surprised by it that a laugh bubbled from his lips and spilled into the mug he was holding against them. Ryan was grinning when Shane looked back up at him, and it sent him into another fit of giggles.

“It’s a valid question!” Ryan said. 

Shane took in a deep breath to steady his laughter. “I—it would just condense it down to one life, wouldn’t it?”

Ryan hummed. “I’m gonna ask Mephistopheles.”

Then he took his phone out of his pocket and Shane blinked as Ryan started quickly typing away. 

“When did you get her number?” He asked.

“When I first visited Hell. She stole my phone and put it in.” Ryan answered. He set his phone down and looked back at Shane, only going to pick it back up again as if buzzed and chimed a moment later. Shane took that moment to study Ryan, take in the way his hair fell across his eyes and the way the morning light cut across his jaw and lit up his eyes. “She says, if on the off chance Obi were to die, all nine lives are immortal.”

Shane looked back down at his coffee as Ryan looked back at him. He was scared to get caught staring.

“So even in immortality, my cat will outlive me.” Shane mumbled. “Wonderful.” 

Ryan laughed.

Shane laughed with him and ignored the pinching in his heart.

\--

“I’ve moved Alistair out of your circle.” Luci said. “He’s now with Asmodus.”

“Um,” Shane blinked, looking around the other desk spaces around his own. No one else had noticed Luci’s sudden appearance, and Ryan wasn’t here to yelp in surprise, but it was Buzzfeed. It wouldn't take that long for someone to notice. “Thanks? I...why are you here?”

“To give you the good news!” Luci said. Then he looked around. “Oh. I didn’t realize you were at work.” 

Shane sighed. 

“Well, since I’m here, tell me all about your trip to London!” Luci slid into Ryan’s chair, propping his elbow up on the desk and dropping his chin in his palm. “I haven’t been since...oh, what, 1600’s?” 

“Okay--” Shane stood and hauled Luci up with him. 

Andrew’s head popped up from his desk, and he looked at Shane curiously as he pushed Luci in front of him. He was moving too fast for Andrew to actually stop him, and Shane managed to get Luci into an empty conference room and close the door before anyone else noticed. 

“Why are you here?”

Luci blinked. “I told you--”

“Why else are you here?” Shane didn’t mean to be rude, but he remembered it being very explicit in his contract that his demonic work and human work weren't supposed to mingle. And normally Shane wouldn’t care, but having Luci pop up in front of his desk was not something he wanted to nor cared to explain to anyone.

Luci blinked again. 

Shane wasn’t going to back down, and they stared at each other for a few moments before Luci sighed.

“I wanted to check in on Ryan,” he said. “We were keeping an eye on you two in London, and things were--progressing, faster than what we thought.” 

Shane frowned. 

Ryan didn’t have anything to do with Hell outside of his own association with Shane. “What things?” 

Luci gnawed at his bottom lip. He looked nervous. “I can’t tell you. Covenant details and all that--I’m not allowed to speak about prophecies--” then he flinched, his hand flying up to his throat. He rubbed just under his jaw. Shane could see that the skin was red. “Ow, mother _fucker_\--” 

Something popped, and then Luci was gone. 

\--

Luci stumbled into his office, crashing into his desk as he fumbled around for his bottle of holy water. 

He hadn’t spoken of prophecies in so long that he forgot how fickle the deal was. 

Luci popped out the cork and drank just enough to quell the burning in his throat. He hated taking the holy water out--not that it would harm him. He was still technically an angel, and he had used it on more than one occasion for injuries, but he didn’t want anyone to know where it was. 

It was his last resort in case everything went to shit.

Luci snapped his fingers and put the bottle back in it’s little false drawer, sucking in deep breaths to get rid of the last of the burn. 

He hated that he made this stupid deal, but it wasn’t like he could take it back. 

“Are you alright, sir?” 

Beelzebub must have sensed his return, to pop up in his office so quickly.

“I’m fine, Beez,” Luci waved them off, taking one last breath to dispel the last of the burn in his throat. He couldn’t even say the damn word and God was trying to choke him out. “I need to talk to Michael.”

Beelzebub frowned. “I’m not in direct contact with Michael.”

“No, I know—just thinking out loud.” Luci sighed. 

Beelzebub hummed. “How was Ryan?”

“Fine.” Luci hadn’t actually seen him face to face, but while Shane had been carting him off he had searched for his soul. It was still functioning, still in once piece, and just as bright and happy as it had been when Luci first met him. “He’s all in one piece” 

Another hum. “And Shane has made Obi his familiar?”

“Yup.” Luci popped the ‘p’.

“Well, that’s one crisis averted, I suppose.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say averted. Staved off, maybe, but not averted.” Luci felt like he wasn’t going to stop sighing today. “He doesn’t even know what he _is_, Beez. I thought he did but—God, do you know how dangerous that is?”

He felt an odd tingle in his fingers when he said His name. 

“Yes, I’m well aware.” Beelzebub had been there during The Fall—of course they knew. 

“I need to go find Michael.” Luci said. 

“Of course.” Beelzebub sidestepped out of the way as Luci stormed towards the door. He threw it open, snapped out his wings, and took off to where ever the fuck it was that Michael was staying.

—

“You look spooked.” Ryan slid up behind Shane, leaning over the back of his chair and popping his head on top of Shane’s. He had a fresh cup of coffee and a fresh stack of papers that Shane smelled rather than saw, and he dropped the papers on his desk but held onto his coffee. “Something happen?”

Shane blinked slowly, taking a moment to drag his eyes away from his computer, and Ryan lifted his head.

Ryan was looking at him with a tilted head and a curious look in his eyes. His hair wasn’t styled today, and it fell across his forehead and into his eyes. Ryan huffed and tugged it back, and Shane followed the movement before looking back at his eyes. 

He couldn't even begin to imagine what Luci could have meant about Ryan and prophecies. 

“Luci stopped by,” Shane said. “I was just surprised by it.”

Ryan blinked. “What did he want?” 

He was wearing one of Shane’s sweaters. Ryan must have slipped it on right as they left the apartment this morning, because Shane hadn’t noticed till now. It was an old collage sweater that Shane had only kept because it was soft and Obi liked to sleep on it when Shane had to leave for longer than a day. The sleeves were too long for Ryan’s arms, and even though Ryan was holding a cup of coffee only his fingertips were poking out from them. 

Shane swallowed and looked away.

“He moved Alistair to a different circle,” Shane clicked through a few open tabs, just to make it look like he was doing something. “He’s not in my jurisdiction anymore.” 

“Good. That guy was an ass.”

Shane wheezed out a laugh. 

“Am I wrong?” Ryan asked. He was grinning.

“No--no, you’re not wrong,” Shane swallowed back another bout of laughter. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be so blunt.” 

Ryan didn’t give a verbal answer, but he did nudge Shane’s shoulder before moving away and dropping his body into his own desk chair. It rolled back for a moment before Ryan dug his feet into the carpet to stop it, and Shane watched him wheel back forward and take a sip from his coffee and pretend that he didn’t miss Ryan’s warmth as much as he did. 

“Where did he get moved to?” Ryan hummed, taking a sip from his coffee and flipping through the papers he had smacked down on the desk.

“Asmodus got him,” Shane leaned back in his chair, popping his hands behind his head and turning to look at Ryan. He hadn’t necessarily kept in contact with Asmodus, but from what he’s heard and seen Shane was fairly confident the second duke could handle it. “I’m pretty sure she can keep him in check.” 

“Oh, I’m sure she can.” 

Shane blinked. “What, are you texting her too?”

Ryan didn’t give a verbal answer, but his grin was answer enough. 

“Jesus,”

“Don’t have his number.” Ryan replied, and then they both broke out into a fit of laughter. 

Andrew, who had been walking by, shook his head and hurried along. 

\--

Michael was living in a tidy little cabin in the upper north of New York state. 

This is not where he had been living last time Luci visited, but Michael was prone to moving around often. It wasn’t something he could really stop himself from doing--angles were finicky when it came to living arrangements, himself included, and Michael rarely felt comfortable enough to stay in a place longer than two months. 

Still, when Luci popped up into the living room Michael set his cup of coffee down on the kitchen island and greeted him with a peppermint flavored kiss. 

“Wow, um, I love that--” Luci blinked stupidly when Michael pulled back. “--but I need to talk about something important.” 

Michael was well aware what Luci was here to talk about.

“I need to know how far the feedback loop has progressed before I can contact Gabriel,” Michael said. He guided Luci to the kitchen island, setting him down on a stool and waving a hand to place a cup of coffee in front of him. “You and I both know he won’t do anything unless it’s dire.” 

Luci groaned, throwing his head back with it. “Did you _not_ feel the London fiasco?”

Michael had. It was impossible not to, with that many spirits congregating into one place. “Of course I did, but I need numbers.”

He picked up his own coffee and took a sip. 

“Beelzebub is working on it, but it’s going to take a few days,” Luci sighed, picking up the mug and cradling it in his hands. 

Michael knew Luci wouldn’t drink from it. He just wanted something warm to hold. 

“I can’t do anything until then, Luci, you know that.”

“No, I know, I just--” Luci set the mug down, drug his finger across the handle, then picked it up again. “We’ve given Shane a familiar to help control the power influxes, but it’s not--it’s a temporary thing.” Luci looked up at him. “This is moving way too fast, Michael, it’s--something’s not right.” 

Michael swallowed and thought of the promise he had made to God all those years ago. 

“I know, Luci,” he said. “But I don’t know what’s wrong.” 

His tongue burned as the lie rolled off it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it's been a Hot Second


	10. Chapter 10

Ryan was tired when he wasn’t around Shane.

It wasn’t that it was a sleepy tired—seven times out of ten Ryan was a sleepy tired anyway. It was more like a bone deep kind of tired, one where it took effort to move his limbs and keep his eyes open and breath at a normal pace. 

It took Ryan a while to notice. 

He was around Shane more often than not during the day—they shared a desk space and worked on the same show, it was nearly impossible not to be together—and he had been sleeping over at Shane’s a lot more. His roommates had asked him once if he was planning on moving out, and Ryan hadn’t dignified that with a response. On those nights where Ryan _did_ go back home, he just assumed it was because he slept better around Shane, because every time he stepped into the office and saw Shane’s lopsided smile he felt better. There was just something about him that made Ryan feel warm and safe and happy. 

Ryan knew exactly why, but he figured he was better off if he pretended that he didn’t. 

“Hey, Ry,” 

Ryan had been awake for a while, but he blinked open his eyes and squinted at Shane, who was kneeling in front of the couch. 

He had fallen asleep during one of their move nights, again, and Shane must have left him to it, because the sun was rising and Ryan had a blanket thrown over him and an Obi on his chest. 

Ryan lifted a hand to pat the cat's head. “Yeah?” 

“I have to go Downstairs for a sec,” Shane had a soft smile on his face that made Ryan’s stomach flip. “You can head into work without me—or you can wait if you want—“

“Can I go with you?”

Shane blinked. For a second his pupils slanted and his eyes looked a little more gold. “I—yeah, if you want to. It’s gonna be a little boring—“ 

“Only you can say that Hell is boring.” Ryan gently dislodged Obi and flung the blankets off, darting past Shane to get to the bedroom to grab clothes so he could change and look at least a little presentable. 

He tried not to dwell on the fact that he was over here so often that he now had his own little corner in Shane’s closet.

\--

Obi was happily walking around the office with his tail held high and sniffing everything that he bumped into (_the paperwork said to bring him with me so he can adjust, Ryan_), and Ryan was staring at the wingback chair. 

“You actually have it.” he said. 

Shane wheezed. “Did you think I was lying?” 

Ryan didn’t answer. He just kept staring. The velvet of the chair was such a garish red that it almost looked pleasant. 

Obi let out a happy trill. He had found a box tucked next to the desk, and Ryan heard a very loud thud as the cat jumped into it. He glanced over just in time to see Obi’s tail disappear and his nose to pop back out. Ryan was almost upset by how quickly the little cat had adjusted to Hell. 

“Have a seat,” Shane gestured towards a more mellow looking chair situation just on the side of the desk. It was still velvet and it was still red, but it wasn’t wingbacked. “Hopefully this shouldn’t take too long.”

“What do you even have to do?” Ryan asked, following Shane to the desk. He paused as he spotted the framed photo. 

It was of him and Shane at Knotts, and seeing it here made his heart flutter and his pulse race. 

“I’ve gotta fill out my part of Alistiar’s transfer paperwork and put in a replacement application.” Shane fell into the chair with huff, reaching out to grip the desk so he could pull himself back up. 

“Oh.” Ryan blinked and sat in his own chair, then, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a chair that was too big for you.” 

“That’s the beauty of the wingback, little guy. It’s too big for everybody.” Shane grinned as he scooted right to the edge of the chair, and Ryan burst out into startled laughter. 

There was a knock at the door, and Mephistopheles poked her head in after Shane called out a come in.

“Ahha! I thought I sensed you two!” 

“Hey, Les,” Ryan smiled and gave a little wave. 

“You haven’t been down here in forever, Ryan! You gotta come visit more!” Mephistopheles waltzed into the room, then halted in her tracks as she spotted Obi’s box. Then she gasped loudly as she spotted Obi. “Ohmygoshhi!”

She hurried over to the box, kneeling down and holding out her hands for Obi to sniff. 

Obi narrowed his eyes and flicked his tail, then he burst into a loud purr and knocked his head into Mephistopheles’ open palms. 

“Traiter.” Shane mumbled.

“Oh, aren’t you just the cutest thing?” Mephistopheles cooed, either not hearing Shane or just ignoring him. “This is Obi, right?”

Shane nodded. 

“Aww, I love him!” she scooped him from the box and into a hug, and Obi only tolerated it for a few seconds before he squirmed and pushed off her arm. Obi only ever tolerated Shane holding him, so the fact that Mephistopheles got that far was pretty impressive. 

“Was there something you needed?” Shane had gotten his computer booted up, and he peered over it at the older demon while he waited for it to load.

“Just came to drop off your transfer paperwork--Luci wanted a physical copy.” Mephistopheles slid a thin manilla file onto the desk. 

“Oh,” Shane picked it up. “Couldn’t I just print it off?”

“Printers don’t work down here.” Mephisopheles grinned, then looked at Ryan. Her smile faltered for a moment so short that Ryan wasn’t entirely sure if he had seen it right. “I also wanted to talk to Ryan for a sec.” 

Ryan blinked. “Oh--yeah, ‘course.” 

He followed Mephistopheles out of Shane’s office, fighting back a wariness in his limbs as soon as they got in the elevator at the end of the hall. 

Mephistopheles ran a hand through her hair, tugging the red curls back as she looked him over. “Oh boy.” 

“What?” Ryan didn’t like the look she had. “What’s wrong?” 

“Gordi, can you take us to Luci’s office?” Mephistopheles asked.

“Of course, Ma’am.” Gordi seamsley shifted the leaver from the lobby--where they had been going--to the top floor. It didn’t even make a click. 

“What’s going on?” 

Mephistopheles didn’t answer him, but she at least looked apologetic. “I can’t--Luci can explain it better to you.” 

Ryan didn’t like that one bit. “I’m not going to like it, am I?”

“No,” Mephistopheles answered. “Probably not.” 

The elevator rang pleasantly, and Gordi opened the door for them and gave them both warm well wishes as Mephistopheles hurried Ryan out. They moved fast enough down the hall that Ryan was winded when they reached Luci’s door. Mephisopheles still didn’t knock even though the paper KNOCK FIRST sign was still taped to the door, and she pushed Ryan into a chair as Luci huffed at them. 

“I’m starting to think you can’t read--” Luci cut himself off as he caught sight of Ryan. “Oh. Oh dear.” 

That certainly didn’t make Ryan feel any better, but he was still struggling to get his breath back so he couldn’t retort as quickly as he wanted to. 

“Here--” Luci opened up a desk draw, producing a large glass bottle full of a clear liquid. “--don’t touch any, Les, but make sure Ryan drinks some--just enough to get his breath back. I’m gonna go try and get a hold of Michael.” 

Luci handed the bottle to Mephestopheles, who handled it like it would break at the slightest touch, then stood from his chair and disappeared into the back room.

Mephestopheles gently worked the cap off, then handed the bottle to Ryan. “Take a shot of that.” 

He tried to ask what it was, but he was breathing so hard that he couldn’t get the words out. 

“It’s holy water.” Mephistophles answered him anyway. 

Ryan wanted to ask her why the _fuck_ Luci had that laying around, but it was getting harder to breathe with each shakey one he drew. So he took the bottle and put it to his lips and knocked it back. 

It didn’t taste like anything. 

Not in the way that water tasted like nothing. This had no taste to it at all—it was just a lukewarm liquid sliding down his throat. 

“Take another swig.” Mephistopheles all but ordered when Ryan drew the bottle back, but he could breathe a little better after he swallowed the first shot so he took another one without protest. 

Then he pulled it back, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gasped out “what the _fuck_ was that?” 

Ryan thought it was odd that holy water could make him breathe again, but when he thought about it for a moment it was more than likely that this particular bottle was probably blessed by an angel, Michael most likely, and angels were supposed to heal people. Drinking blessed water should do the same thing, Ryan figured. 

Before Mephistopheles could answer there was a loud snap, and then Luci came bursting out of the back room with Micheal right behind him. 

“Is this _dire_ enough for you?” Luci asked, throwing a hand out to point at Ryan. 

He sounded angry.

Michael locked eyes with Ryanmfor a moment, then looked back at Luci. “Why would you take him away from Shane if it’s this bad?”

“Because I didn’t _know_ it was this bad!” Luci snapped back. “For fucks sake Michael—I will call Gabriel down here _myself_ if I have to!”

“Gabriel would smite you on the spot.” 

“Well, what else do you expect me to do?” Luci lost all his fight at the end of the question. He closed his eyes, dropping back against the desk. He suddenly looked like the centuries old being that he was, and Ryan looked away because it felt like something he shouldn’t be seeing. 

Michael opened his mouth, closed it, then lifted a hand and gently cupped Luci’s cheek. “I can talk to him, but I can’t promise you anything.” 

“Just—go.” Luci pulled away from him, and Michael flinched back. 

“Luci—“

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Luci snapped it out, and Michael only faltered for a moment before he snapped his wings out and disappeared. Luci sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair as he looked back up at Ryan. “Do you have any holy water at home?”

“I—“ he didn’t, actually. He had tossed it after Shane had gone full demon. “—no. I don’t.” 

“Take the bottle then.” Luci said. “I can get more.” 

Ryan wanted to ask if he was sure. Instead he set the bottle on the floor and knotted his fingers together in his lap. “What’s going on?” 

Luci looked physically pained by the question. “Ryan, I can’t—I can't answer that right now. But until I can I need you to stay close to Shane. You can’t take holy water constantly to curb the fatigue you just felt—it’s addictive stuff, and I don’t want you to go through that.” 

Ryan swallowed. 

The way Luci said it left no room to question that it was him who had _gone through that_. 

“Okay,” Ryan all but whispered. 

He had no god damn idea what was going on, but having Luci tell him to stay close to Shane only confirmed his own theories as to why he was so tired when he wasn’t around him, and Ryan was ready to take any answer at this point. Even if it was a half assed one. 

“You should get back down to him, he’s probably wondering where you are.” Luci continued. “You can leave the holy water up here--I’d rather not have you walking around Hell with a bottle of it. I’ll have it sent to you tonight.” 

Ryan nodded, left the bottle on the floor, then left Luci’s office. 

Mephestophiles stayed behind. 

Ryan tried not to think too much into it.

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, Mr. Bergara.” Gordi greeted him, pushing the button to the seventh floor without prompt. 

“Thanks,” Ryan gave the little demon a smile, and Gordi beamed back. Ryan’s breathing was still a little haggard, but it wasn’t bad enough that he couldn’t manage it.

Shane was waiting for them when the golden elevator doors opened, Obi already in his little harness.

Ryan still couldn’t believe Shane had actually bought a cat harness. 

“There you are!” Shane smiled, stepped aside so Ryan could step off. Obi meowed in greeting and weaved between Ryan’s legs and did his best to trip him up. “I was just about to go looking for you.” 

“Yeah, sorry--I got dragged up to Luci’s office.” Ryan thanked Gordi as he stepped off. 

“Anytime, sir!” Gordi gave him a wave, and then the elevator doors snapped shut. 

Shane watched them, then looked back at Ryan. His eyes were doing the goat thing again, and Ryan very pointedly ignored how it made his stomach flip and flutter. “What did Luci need you for?” 

What for indeed?

“He just wanted to check in.” Ryan answered. “And to bitch about you.” 

“Oh, ha ha.” Shane stuck his tongue out, and Ryan stuck his out in response. 

He wanted to tell Shane about it, but there was something in Luci’s urgency and Mephistopheles' silence that made it seem like a bad idea, so Ryan stayed quiet. 

“Wanna get coffee?” Shane asked. He started down the hall with Obi dutifully padding behind him. Ryan was quick to follow after them, suddenly terrified of falling behind. “The stuff in the lobby isn’t too bad. It’s way better than Starbucks, anyway.” 

“You paying?” Ryan jogged to catch up, falling in step next to Shane. 

Shane looked at him. “I get it for free, Ryan.” 

“That doesn't mean I do.” he retorted. 

Shane blinked, and then he laughed. It was a very pretty sound, Ryan thought, bright and clear and completely unashamed. 

“I’m sure I can swing something for you.” Shane slung his arm over Ryan’s shoulders and tugged him close. Ryan felt his cheeks warm, but he didn’t try to pull away. Instead he hooked his own arm around Shane’s waist to keep some semblance of balance. 

Obi yowled.

“Nu-uh, you’re walking sir.” Shane chided, and really, Ryan shouldn't find a grown ass man chiding a cat on a leash so endearing. “You’re getting a little chubby, Obi, we talked about this.” 

Obi yowled again and bounded forward far enough that the leash went taunt.

Ryan laughed and didn’t think about how he could breathe normally again. 

\--

Shane’s apartment was quiet when they got back from their actual work and office (the entire floor of Buzzfeed they worked on had been delighted to get a visit from Obi), but it certainly wasn’t empty. 

There was a man lounging on the couch, reading from a magazine Shane had deposited on the table a few days ago and sipping from a glass of wine. He was wearing a three piece that was an obnoxious shade of blue, his hair a shade of blond bright enough to rival Luci’s, and his pearl white wings on full display. 

Obi puffed up and hissed, and Ryan was sure if Shane could do the same thing he would. 

Instead, Shane’s eyes had gone golden and his pupils had slanted, and Ryan was positive he could see a fang poking at his lip. His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping Obi’s leash. 

The whole thing reminded Ryan of when Shane had tried to walk into that church the night they met Beelzebub--he was frozen with the clash of his flight or fight response, and Ryan put a hand on his shoulder in a vain attempt to steady him. 

“Oh, do calm down.” the man snapped the magazine shut and waved away his half finished glass of wine. “I’m not here to hurt you, _demon_.”

He spat out the word more than he said it.

Shane’s fight response ultimately won, because he pushed Ryan behind him and growled. “Why are you here, then?”

The man blinked at Shane. He looked startled. 

“I’ve been told,” he said slowly. “That I need to speak to Mr. Bergara.” 

“_Why_?” Shane asked.

“Why does He do anything?” the man didn’t seem to be asking anyone in particular, more just stating it in a drawn out sigh. “It doesn’t matter _why_, I just _do_.” 

And then it clicked in Ryan’s head. 

“You’re Gabriel, aren’t you?” 

Gabriel scowled. “Who _else_ would I be?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obi gets his debut in Hell and Ryan gets a chapter
> 
> I wrote this entire thing in one sitting, so if anythings a little wacky that would be why


	11. Chapter 11

“Come sit with me, Ryan.” Gabriel held out his hand.

Ryan blinked, then glanced up at Shane. He didn’t seem to realize that Ryan was still behind him. Or maybe he was hyper aware of it. Ryan wasn’t completely sure, but Shane had all his attention turned on Gabriel and he looked like a cat with its hackles raised. Obi had weaved between Ryan’s legs, pupils nothing more than a line as he stared at Gabriel. 

Ryan thought, rather hysterically, that Shane and Obi looked exactly alike. 

“Oh, for Christ’s sake—“ Gabriel stood and snapped his fingers, and then Ryan was no longer standing behind Shane.

He gasped and stumbled back into a large desk, slapping his hand down on glossed wood to steady himself from the sudden fatigue and his still swooping stomach. He felt light headed, and when Ryan blinked to steady himself further stars danced in his eyes. He lifted his hand and pressed his palm against his temple and dug his fingers in his hair and gasped and tried to get air in his lungs. 

“Demons are so _territorial_,” Gabriel sat in a wingback chair that was almost an exact replica of Shane’s, but where his was red Gabriel’s was a stark white. It made it look even more obnoxious. “It’s exhausting.” 

“Where—“ Ryan couldn’t get any air in his lungs. “—are we?”

“My office.” Gabriel answered. “We weren't going to get anywhere with that _thing_ around.” 

“Shane isn’t—“ Ryan stumbled. He barely caught himself before he fell. 

Gabriel looked at him, blinked, then sighed. “Right, yes, holy water.” 

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and then he was holding a wine glass full of a clear liquid. He passed it to Ryan, but before Ryan could wrap his fingers around the stem it was snatched from Gabriel’s hand and thrown away. Ryan heard the glass smash, and then someone caught him as he fell as he suddenly lost his balance and strength. 

“Michael.” Gabriel didn’t sound surprised.

“I told you to talk to him, not kidnap him.” Michael hooked his arm around Ryan’s waist and pulled Ryan’s arm over his shoulders, and as much as Ryan didn’t want to, he let all his weight fall on Michael because he just couldn’t keep upright. “You know he can’t be away from Shane right now." 

“I have holy water, he would have been fine.” 

Ryan closed his eyes, chest moving in shallow breaths. His fingers flexed as he tried to grab onto Michael’s shirt, but he didn’t have the grip strength to do it. 

“You’re a dick, Gabriel.” 

“Yes, well, not all of us enjoy the company that you do, Michael.” 

There was a tense moment of silence, then a snap and a pop, and then Ryan was being passed off to someone else and he was warm and he could smell aftershave and something woodsy and he breathe again. 

“Ry? You okay?” 

That was Shane’s voice. 

Ryan nodded. He couldn’t get any words out, but he could breathe. 

“Do you...do you need anything?” Shane’s voice had gotten a lot softer. 

Ryan shook his head. “Just—hold me for a sec.” 

Shane’s chest stuttered, and he squeezed Ryan a little tighter. 

“You need to get over yourself,” There was Michael’s voice again, and when Ryan blinked open his eyes Michael was staring Gabriel down and the last little glimmer of something was fading from his open palm. Ryan squinted, and he could see a trickle of red dripping down Gabriel’s jaw. 

“I could say the same to you.” Gabriel snapped back. 

Micheal clenched his hand. It was shaking. “Just say your damn bit and get out.” 

“Fine.” Gabriel scowled, then looked over at the two of them. He seemed to glow for a moment, bright enough that Ryan had to look away, but when he spoke it was in the driest tone Ryan had ever heard. “_Ryan Steven Bergara, you have been blessed by God’s Messenger. You’re a Spirit Guide. Congratulations_.”

Then he snapped his wings out and he was gone. 

Ryan blinked, not understanding what Gabriel said because he said it in a strange rasping language that he didn’t know. “I—what?” 

“Spirit Guide?” Shane asked at the same time. 

Ryan looked back at Shane. “You understood that?”

“You didn’t?” 

“He was speaking Enochian. I would have been surprised if you understood it.” Michael butted in. He was still scowling, but it seemed more aimed at Gabriel than it was at Shane and Ryan. “Not that it matters--you’ve been told the Truth, and so the Secret no longer needs to be kept.” 

“I--okay, hold on, wait,” Ryan detangled himself from Shane. Shane’s hands jerked forward like he was going to catch him, but Ryan had already moved away and hadn’t noticed. “Can you maybe start from the beginning?” 

“You, Ryan, are a Spirit Guide,” Michael scooped up Obi as he wanted towards him, getting in a few pets before Obi squirmed back out of his hold. The little cat dashed back to Shane, yowling until he picked him up. “You’re meant to help lost spirits pass on.” 

Ryan was pretty sure his heart just dropped to his stomach.

“Oh.” 

“What, like Ghost Whisperer?” Shane piped up, and when Ryan looked back at him he was smiling. It looked strained, but he was smiling. 

“Something like that.” Michael looked tired. Ryan had never really seen him outside of the times he had been with Luci, but it was odd to see him like this, hunched in on himself, his mouth set in a straight line and his eyes downcast. “Spirits will flock to you--they already do, but you’re under no obligation to help them cross over unless given a direct order from Gabriel. That’s not to say you can’t, but the toll that would take on your body if you’re constantly crossing spirits over would be…” he paused for a moment, like he was debating on what to say. “...difficult to recover from.” 

Then Michael shook his head. “There are others who can explain it better--I’ll have Luci get you in touch with someone.”

“Hold on, Michael, wait--” 

Michael snapped his wings out, and then he was gone. 

Ryan blinked, staring at the spot the angel had stood, then rounded back on Shane. “What the _fuck_?” 

\--

Shane knew there was more to this Spirit Guide thing than what Michael had given, but he hadn't said anything about it. Instead he had let Ryan sleep while he stress baked some muffins for most of the night while frantically texting Mephistopheles. She hadn’t had anything to offer him except that Luci had gotten a meeting set up with someone to talk Ryan through it. This same demon was also going to replace Alistair, but that seemed trivial now. 

So as soon as Ryan had gotten through two cups of coffee and filled up a to go cup, Shane hooked Obi up in his harness and whisked them off to Hell. 

“Shane! Ryan!” Luci greeted them with a smile. They were meeting in the lobby, and Luci already had a cup of coffee in hand with the _Brimstone and Fire_ logo printed on it. “Good morning--”

“Did you know?” Shane cut him off. 

Shane felt...well, angry wouldn’t be the right word to use. Hell was open about a lot of things, but Shane had learned very early on that matters involving Upstairs tended to stay in the dark. Worried would probably be the better term, because if Ryan was about to get involved with Heaven and Hell, then Shane needed whatever information he could get to keep him safe. 

Luci blinked, then he sighed and dropped his smile. “Yes. I did.” 

“Is that why you didn’t say anything?” Ryan jumped in before Shane could continue. “Because of that secret not being told thing?”

“That’s part of it. The other bit is more complicated.” Luci frowed. Then he shook his head and plastered a smile back on his face. “I promise I’ll explain, but how about we get the more important explanation out of the way first.”

Luci spun on his heel and marched towards the elevator. 

Ryan followed after him, and Shane bit the inside of his cheek before following after them. Obi happily padded along beside him with his tail held high. 

They only went up to the first floor.

“Couldn’t we have just taken the stairs?” Ryan asked when the doors slid open.

Luci looked at him, confused. “Hell doesn’t have stairs.” 

Then he hopped off the elevator, and Ryan and Shane shared a look before following after him. 

“Mephistopheles’ office is just down this way.” Luci led them down the left end of the hall, and Shane looked at all the office doors with surprise. He had never actually been to the first floor, and the set up was vastly different from his one office seventh floor. “She shares an office with Beez, actually, but that’s not important. What is important is that Annabelle should be waiting for us. You know her already, I think.”

Shane turned back to Luci. “I do?” 

He had met a lot of demons in the several months of his Hell residency, but Annabelle didn’t sound familiar to him at all. 

Luci hummed. “She was in those movies. The spin offs of the, uh, The Conjoined, or something like that.”

“The Conjuring?” Ryan didn’t ask it so much as he very surprisingly let it slip out.

Luci snapped his fingers. “Yes! Conjuring! Thank you! I always forget that.” 

Ryan stopped, and Shane bumped into him. Obi kept waddling along until he ran out of leash, then he stopped and looked back at them and yowled. 

“But I thought--” Ryan started, then cut himself off with an audible click. 

“She’s a high ranking demon, Ryan. She doesn’t need to be in a doll to move it.” Luci stopped in front of a door, knocked exactly three times, then pushed it open. “See, ‘Les? That’s how you knock.”

“Oh, piss off.” Mephistopheles scowled, then grinned when she saw Ryan. “Ryan!”

She all but leapt over the desk to him, and Shane watched with a smile as she pulled him into a hug before turning his attention to the other girl perched just on the edge of the desk. 

She looked really young. Shane honestly wouldn’t have placed her anywhere above thirteen, what with the baby fat sill on her face. Her hair, as dark as Micheal’s, was pulled back into braided pigtails that fell across her shoulders and her bangs were pulled back by bright pink butterfly hair clips. Her eyes were all black too, and when she smiled her teeth were unnaturally white. It was incredibly unsettling.

Obi meowed, and Shane bent down to scoop him up. 

“Shane, this is Annabelle.” Luci introduced. “She’s about the only one who’s been Topside as much as you have, so she can explain the workings of the above ground spirit world better than any of us can. She also deserves a promotion, and I think you two would get along swimmingly.”

Luci finished off his explanation with a grin. 

“It’s lovely to finally meet you, my lord.” Annabelle jumped off the desk to come stand next to him. She barely just went up past his waist. 

“Just--Shane, please.” Shane wasn’t sure if he should bend down or crouch down or just look down. 

“Shane.” Annabell repeated. 

“Right, well! We’re going to go find Beelzebub--” Luci clapped his hands together, and when he pulled them apart his cup of coffee was back in his left hand. “ ‘Les, let go of Ryan and come with me.” 

Mephistopheles let Ryan out of the headlock she had him in with a huff. “You can go find Beez on your own.”

“Yes, but it’s much quicker with you.” Luci took a sip from his coffee. “You can chat here if you want, Shane, or you can head up to your own office. Just shoot me a text so I can get Annabelle’s paperwork sent to you, okay? See you crazy kids later!”

Then Luci and Mephistopheles were gone, leaving Shane, Obi, Ryan, and Annabelle in the office.

“How about,” Shane said slowly. “We go to my office?” 

\--

Shane’s office was nice and warm and cozy, a far cry from Mephistopheles’ large and open office. 

Shane settled into his chair with a happy little sigh, running his hand down Obi’s back as the cat jumped up into his lap. 

“You look like a James Bond villain.” Ryan said. 

“Perfect. That’s exactly what I was going for.” Shane grinned and Ryan wheezed as he sat in the chair next to the desk. Shane wanted so badly to hook his ankle around the chair leg and pull Ryan closer, but it turned out that he didn’t need to because Ryan scooted his chair closer anyway. 

Annabelle perched herself up on Shane’s desk, just like she had done on Mephistopheles’, and gave Ryan a smile. “It’s a pretty big honor to be a Spirit Guide, you know?” 

“Is it?” Ryan asked. 

Annabelle hummed. “I’m told it is. In all reality you just end up being Gabriel’s gopher until he gets sick of you and moves on.” 

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” Shane said, trying very hard to ignore the tightness in his chest. His eyes felt heavy, and from the way Annabelle was smiling at him he figured his eyes had changed. 

“Oh, absolutely.” Annabelle’s laugh sounded like a little kid's laugh. Shane didn’t know why he was surprised by it--she was, for all intents and purposes, a little kid. “But I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Ryan. You've been helping people cross over left and right lately.” 

Shane turned to look at Ryan, who was looking at Annabelle with wide eyes. “I have?”

“Well, sure. Haven’t you wondered why you’ve been so tired?” 

“I just thought…” Ryan trailed off and looked down at his hands, tangling his fingers together before letting them rest in his lap. “I just assumed it’s because I haven’t been sleeping lately.” 

Shane frowned at that. 

Ryan had been sleeping just fine lately. 

“I’m sure that’s part of it,” Annabelle gave him a softer smile. “But it’s--well, ghosts are just a concentration of loose energy. They can’t really do much without a more stable source of it, which is why they need you. Those that want to cross over take a little bit of your energy so that they can. Usually the process isn’t that taxing, but you--well, no offence, but you don’t have a very good grip on this yet, Ryan.” 

“None taken.” Ryan smiled, but it fell just as quickly as it was put on. “Wait, so they just take my energy--?”

“Not necessarily. They can’t take it without your permission, but from what I’ve seen from your show you have a standing open invitation.” 

Shane snorted. “You really are the ghost whisperer, Ry.” 

Annabelle looked between the two of them, then shook her head. “You just need to get a better hold of it, that’s all. Ghosts are going to come to you anyway because you and Shane are such powerful entities, so you just have to learn to say no every once in a while--give yourself time to recharge.” 

Ryan blinked. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

Annabelle opened her mouth to reply, but before she could there were three sharp knocks on the door and then Luci came bursting in.

“I have transfer papers!” He all but sang it, sauntering over to the desk and slapping them down right next to Annabelle. “If you would be a doll and fill out your part for me Annabelle, I need to steal Shane away for a sec.”

Annabelle narrowed her eyes, then snapped her fingers and held out her hand just as a pen fell into it. 

Ryan’s eyes widened.

“I’ll be right back, Ry, I promise.” Shane smiled and leaned in on an impulse to kiss his cheek, but pulled back before he could. Instead he dropped Obi into Ryan’s lap. “Keep him safe for me.” 

Ryan gave a jerky nod, and Shane’s heart stuttered as he followed Luci out. 

They stopped a few feet down from the office door, and before Shane could ask Luci was already talking.

“Yes, I knew, but I couldn’t--I still can’t talk about it.” Luci dragged his fingers through his hair and tugged hard enough that Shane winced for him. “It’s part of the deal I made with God when I--when I fell. I can’t talk about Heavenly matters unless someone else brings it up first. Even if they directly affect my corner of the world.” 

Shane nodded. He could read between the lines. “So there's more.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, there’s more.” Luci sighed. “Gabriel knows, but he’s not exactly a chatterbox anymore. Michael can talk about it now though, since Gabriel broke the seal.”

“Can you--?”

“I’m already on it.” Luci gave him a smile then, and it was just as reassuring as it was worrying. “I’m not going to lie to you Shane, it’s—it’s not exactly a good something. But now that Ryan knows it’s not—it should start to fix itself.” 

“That’s reassuring.” Shane crossed his arms. 

“No—I know, it’s not—just stay close to him and I’ll get this fixed before it becomes a problem. I promise.”

And Shane believed him. 

“Now, you two head on back home, get some sleep, eat some watermelon, watch some House or whatever it is you people watch.” Luci started hustling Shane back into the office. “I’ll get your paperwork filled out and let you know when I need you back down here and I’ll have Annabelle pop up for a visit so she can talk Ryan through some things.”

Shane put his hand back on the door handle when he got close enough, then turned back around to look at Luci. 

“Thank you.” He said softly.

Luci blinked, then smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Then they walked back in, and Shane almost hated how his heart fluttered when Ryan smiled at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we're getting close to the end? I never actually had a solid plot when I started this.


	12. Chapter 12

Annabelle was surprisingly efficient at her job, which was a skill in itself considering Shane didn’t really know what her job _was_.

Nonetheless, he got paperwork on his desk (in his Hell office, not his Buzzfeed office) detailing what, if any, sinners they had received that week, as well as the official request forms for proper punishment. She clipped it all together with pastel colored paper clips, which Shane certainly appreciated. Sometimes she would place a little Hershey chocolate on top of the paperwork stack, which Shane really appreciated. 

And today he picked up his stack of paperwork and the little Hershey chocolate, popped back into the Buzzfeed office, and offered the little chocolate to a startled Ryan. 

“For scaring you.” Shane said.

Ryan narrowed his eyes. “You can’t keep apologizing with Annabelle’s chocolate. One of these days it’s not gonna work.”

Still, he swiped the candy from Shane’s hand, undid the foil, and popped it in his mouth. 

Shane grinned. 

He had known something was off with Ryan for a while now--had known it since they went to Colchester--but he hadn’t said anything. Shane had taken note of the paleness in Ryan’s usually flush cheeks, the near constant exhaustion, the dragging on his feet and uptake of his caffeine indigestion.

Shane had noticed it all, had said nothing, and kept Ryan close to him while shoving snacks in his coat pockets and water bottles in their bags. 

But now he knew what was wrong, and it was a relief as much as it was worrying. 

Shane could at least take solace in the fact that they were done with their Supernatural season and onto True Crime. They would be away from ghosts and demons for a bit, and Ryan would have a chance to rest and recover. He could do his research and geek out about serial killers and Shane would only have to worry about making sure Ryan got into their bed at a decent time. 

Shane paused and felt the smile slip off his face.

“You good, big guy?” Ryan asked it around a mouthful of chocolate, so it took a moment for Shane to decipher what he actually said. 

“Yeah--yeah, I’m good.” Shane shook his head, yanked his chair out from the desk, and fell into it in a heap of limbs. 

Their bed. 

Not his. 

And well--well, Ryan had been sleeping with Shane lately, because Shane had argued that he couldn’t keep sleeping on the couch and Ryan had argued right back that he wasn’t going to kick Shane out of his own bed. And it wasn’t like they hadn’t slept together before, and Shane’s bed was more than big enough for the both of them. So they had quietly come to the conclusion that they would just sleep together with Obi wedged between them. 

Shane swallowed and thought about the extra toothbrush in his bathroom, the extra bottles of shampoo and conditioner in his shower, how he suddenly had less closet space, the protein shakes in the fridge, the sneakers by the door, the second jean jacket in the coat closet--

Ryan had moved in with him and he hadn’t even noticed. 

“You sure?” Ryan scooted closer, his voice soft and his skin smelling like chocolate and his dumb old spice body wash that sat right next to Shane’s Irish Spring bar soap in the shower. “You look like you’re freaking out a bit.” 

Shane blinked. “I, uh—did you know we moved in together?” 

Ryan stared dumbly at him. “What?” 

“You have a bottle of shampoo in the shower.” Shane said, because that seemed far more pressing a matter than the fact that they’ve been sleeping together every night for at least two weeks. 

“I—huh.” Ryan looked down at the stack of papers on his desk. “Do you...do you want me to leave?” 

“No!” Shane said it just a bit too quickly. 

Ryan looked back up at him. He was using one of Shane’s bandana’s to keep his hair back today—a deep blue one with little white polka dots. 

Good god, Ryan had even started wearing Shane’s clothes.

Shane has started wearing Ryan’s clothes. 

“I just...wondered if you noticed.” Shane finished lamely. He tugged on his yellow sweater sleeves and tried not to think too hard about how this was Ryan’s sweater. He had stolen it awhile back, and even though Ryan noticed, nothing was ever said. 

Ryan’s cheeks went a very interesting shade of pink. “I...yeah. Yeah, I noticed.” 

He looked back down again. His leg started bouncing and his fingers tightened on the papers he held and--

Oh. 

Shane swallowed. “I think this is a conversation that warrants Taco Bell.” 

\--

They walked together around the block to Taco Bell in silence. 

They had decided, without speaking, to take the table by the bathrooms because no one ever sat at the tables by the bathrooms. This was a conversation that required privacy, and any place was better than the Buzzfeed office. 

Shane had ordered for both of them because he knew Ryan’s order by heart.

They did not speak until their food was set in front of them by a tired looking teenager. 

Shane held his crunch wrap and stared at it. Then he took a deep breath and spit out before he could think too hard about it, “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Ryan hadn’t picked up his food. He hadn’t even moved, but he still went still, his eyes widening and his hands clenching in his lap. He spared a quick glance at Shane before looking back down at his own crunchwrap, still in the paper wrap. 

“I didn’t want you to tell me to leave.” Ryan said quietly. 

Shane’s heart did some very funny things. 

“Why did you think I would tell you to leave?” Shane asked it far too softly and intimately for a bathroom table in a Taco Bell.

Ryan tugged on the hem of his sleeve hard enough that Shane thought it would unravel. “I...I don’t know.” 

And quite suddenly a lot of things made sense. 

Shane understood just what those shared looks meant, why Ryan kept looking for excuses to scoot his chair closer to Shane’s in the office, to touch his hand and wrist. Shane understood why Ryan scowled when anyone looked at Shane like that, why he got all flustered and red when Shane leaned a little too much into his demon side. He understood why Ryan liked having movie night, why he knew just how Shane liked his popcorn, why he always drifted closer than what would be considered friendly. 

Shane understood all that and more, and he wondered why he hadn’t noticed it any sooner. 

“Hey, Ry?” Shane swallowed, because yeah, this was far too intimate a moment for a bathroom seat at Taco Bell, but if Shane didn’t do it now he didn’t think he ever would. “If I’m reading this wrong, just sucker punch me, okay?” 

Ryan looked up.

Shane took a deep breath, leaned across the table because he was just tall enough to do that, took Ryan’s cheeks in his hands, and kissed him. 

For an agonizing moment, Ryan didn’t do anything. 

Then he let out a little sigh, leaned forward just a bit, and kissed Shane back. 

When they pulled back Shane was nearly breathless and Ryan was grinning bright enough to make sunshine look dull.

“Yeah,” Ryan said. “You read that right.” 

\--

“Has Shane seen his army at all?”

Annabelle looked up from her desk. She had not heard Luci come in, but there he was, hovering over her in a pale pink three piece and red sneakers. Date clothes, she guessed. He looked frazzled, and Annabelle didn’t entirely feel bad for him. 

“Once or twice.” Annabelle answered. “Why?” 

“Because Shane’s head general just crashed my date demanding to see him.” Luci let out a sigh far too dramatic for the situation, draping himself across Annabelle’s desk and scattering her papers. “Michael was taking me to Olive Garden today, Annabelle. I love Olive Garden!”

Annabelle scowled and shoved Luci off the desk. He hit the ground with a yelp and a thud. When he popped back up his hair was skewed every which way and one of his buttons had popped off the suit jacket sleeve. 

Luci scowled, and Annabelle waved all her papers back into place. 

“Why?” she asked. “It’s not like we’re at war--heck, we’re not even scheduled for a war until 3069.”

Luci stood up and brushed himself off. He spun around in a circle, looking for his lost button. He found it under Annabelle’s desk, and he bent down to snap it back onto his jacket. “No, we’re not, but it’s the Seventh Circle army, Annabelle. They get restless--they need something to occupy their time with.” 

Annabelle looked up at Luci. 

He had that look in his eye--the look that meant he knew the outcome of this situation already. 

“You already have an answer. I don’ t know why you’re coming to me.” Annabelle pushed the form she was filing out aside. This was an actual important conversation, it seemed. Or at the very least it would be an important stare down. 

“Because it’s not the right time for my answer yet.” Luci answered. 

Annabelle looked at him a little longer, then groaned and threw her head back. “Ugh, fine. I’ll talk to him.” 

Luci broke into a grin and clapped his hands together. “Aw, I knew you were my favorite!”

“Fuck you and fuck your dumb prophecies.” Annabelle answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hell yeah I threw a 69 joke in there
> 
> (I know it's short and like,,,several months late but I've been desperately trying to find a way to coherently wrap this up so please bare with me)


	13. Chapter 13

Andrew was grinning like a maniac when Shane and Ryan wandered back into the office, and Shane made it a point to ignore him. But then Ryan got called off to talk to some higher ups about clearing the episodes for the new season of true crime, and Andrew seamlessly slid into Ryan’s seat as soon as it was vacated. Shane couldn’t ignore him if he tried. 

He looked at Shane with a pleasant smile, and Shane was half tempted to text Steven to come get his dumb co-host. 

“So?” Andrew prompted.

“So what?” Shane asked. He knew exactly what Andrew was going to ask. He had walked into the office with his arm around Ryan’s shoulders and Ryan’s arm settled around Shane’s waist. 

It didn’t exactly leave a lot up for imagination. 

Andrew raised his eyebrows, and Shane sighed. “How much money are you gonna make if I give you the answer that you want?” 

“Five hundred.” Andrew answered easily. “Half the office still thinks you two are hooking up during your Unsolved shoots and the other thinks you two are already a thing.” 

Shane wrinkled his nose. He had known about the office betting pool, of course. It wasn’t exactly like it was Buzzfeed’s best kept secret--Shane had noticed money being exchanged and people giving him and Ryan curious looks every time they came back from a shoot long before the whole becoming a demon thing. Hell, Shane had even thrown in his two cents on some of the more mundane betting pots floating around. 

“Aren’t you a lucky man.” Shane leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. There would be no point in lying about it. The whole office would know that Shane and Ryan were a thing by the end of the day anyway. 

Shane had been ready to keep the whole thing under wraps, but just before he and Ryan walked back into the office Ryan looked at him and softly said _I don’t want to hide this_.

Shane really was bad at telling Ryan no.

Plus, if Ryan was giving Shane permission to kiss him silly in front of coworkers, then Shane wasn’t going to be the one to turn that offer down. 

“What are you gonna spend it on?” Shane asked. 

Andrew tilted his head in thought. “I don’t know...I’ll probably take Steven out for a nice dinner. Maybe buy a new jacket. ” 

“Is eating gold every night not good enough for you?” Shane grinned while Andrew rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to retort back, but he never got the chance to, because Annabelle quite literally popped up onto Ryan’s desk and cut Andrew off with a cloud of black smoke.

“Hey, Shane, I gotta talk to you--” Annabelle started. Then she caught sight of Andrew, paused, and stared. “...Andrew?”

Andrew waved away the smoke. He wasn’t coughing. “Annabelle.” 

Shane blinked dumbly. 

“What the fuck are you--is this where you’ve been?” Annabelle gave her full attention to Andrew. She sat on Ryan’s desk, dangling her legs off the edge and bracing her palms on the edge as she leaned forward and pushed herself into Andrew’s personal space as much as she physically could. “Asmodus thought you died.”

Andrew, for his part, didn’t seem phased. 

“Yeah, sorry,” Andrew offered her a pleasant smile. “Luci asked me to keep an eye on Shane. I had assumed he would have said something to you guys.” 

Annabelle frowned.

“And apparently I assumed wrong,” Andrew amended. Then he stood and brushed off the flakes of ash and brimstone that had settled on his pants from Annabelle’s smoke cloud like this was a normal everyday occurrence. “I’ll go give Asmodus a call--it was nice talking to you, Shane.” 

And then Andrew walked off. 

Shane stared.

“Fucking--sin demons--” Annabelle grumbled out something Shane couldn’t make out and readjusted herself till she was sitting cross-legged on Ryan’s desk. A few of the papers crinkled and shifted under her weight. 

“What?” Shane asked.

Annabelle finally looked at him. “What do you mean what?”

“I mean what the fuck was that?” Shane gestured vaguely in the direction that Andrew went. “You know Andrew?”

Annabelle blinked slowly, then narrowed her eyes. She looked, Shane thought, a lot like how Obi looks when he’s annoyed with Shane. “He’s a sin demon, Shane. Of course I know him. I was filling in for him until Luci moved me to your circle.” Then Annabelle threw her head back and let out a loud sigh. “Let me tell you, gluttony is the _worst_\--half the charges aren’t even viable and the other half are just--” 

“Andrew is a demon?” Shane cut Annabelle off.

Annabelle snapped her head back up. “Yeah? He’s a duke, just like you. Third circle--” 

“_What_\--”

“Will you stop cutting me off?” Annabelle huffed, and Shane sheepishly sunk back into his chair. “I can’t believe you didn’t--oh, whatever. Yes, Andrew is a demon. He’s a sin demon like Asmodus is. Third Duke of Hell.”

Shane ran through the nine circles, trying to remember what the third circle was. “...that’s...gluttony, right?”

He kind of hated how much sense that made.

Annabelle nodded. “He up and disappeared a few years ago, but _apparently_ he was just up here hanging out with you. Geeze, Asmodus is gonna fucking kill him.” 

Shane wasn’t entirely sure if Annabelle was talking about Andrew or Luci, but he didn’t dare ask.

Instead he thought about the fact that Andrew was, apparently, a demon. Andrew had started at Buzzfeed a few days after Shane did. They didn’t click in the way he and Ryan did, but there had still been a friendliness between them. They did the occasional video together, carpooled to shoots if their filming schedule happened to line up, hung out every now and then and got drinks and dinner and things like that. 

And then things started to make just a little too much sense. “You--were you guys watching me the whole time?” 

“Me, personally? No. But Luci was, I guess.” Annabelle offered Shane a smile as he sputtered and squawked. “You’re an important person, Shane, It’s not that surprising.” 

Shane fumbled for something to say, but Annabelle continued on.

“But I didn’t come for Andrew.” Annabelle leaned forward again. Ryan’s desk was too far over for her to properly get up in Shane’s personal space like she had done with Andrew, but that didn't stop her from trying. “I came because I need you to come to the office. Your army is starting to get a little rowdy.”

It took a second for Shane to figure out what Annabelle was talking about. 

He hadn’t been to see his army since his first week of demon-hood, and even then it had only been a brief visit. Luci had been with him then. He had brought him to a room that looked a lot like a lecture hall, introduced Shane to a frankly obscene amount of demons, clicked through a power point that the demons had watched with rapt attention. then whisked Shane away for more paperwork.

Shane hand honestly forgot he even _had_ an army. 

“What am I supposed to do?” Shane asked. He had just gotten into the swing of running an entire section of Hell. Piling an entire army on top of that seemed like a good way to throw Shane out of balance again. 

Annabelle shrugged. “Give ‘em something to do. They’re getting restless because they’re not doing anything. Steve had them collecting souls up Top--obviously that stopped once you took charge, but--” Annabelle paused, tilting her head in thought. Her hair wasn't up today, and it pooled around her shoulders in pleasant waves. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” 

Then she was gone.

Her abrupt exit left behind a considerably less amount of ash and brimstone then her entrance had, but there was still a fine coating of it on Ryan’s chair and desk. 

Ryan came back a few moments later, holding a folder close to his chest and wearing a smile on his face. It slipped when he looked at his chair, and he stared at it before shaking his head and brushing the ash off. 

“We’ve got the clear for the true crime episodes,” Ryan said. He set the folder down on the desk and started to vigorously pat down the chair. Little puffs of ash came up every time he touched the fabric. “We can start filming as soon as I polish up the scripts.” 

“That’s great,” Shane said. Then he smiled, just because Ryan was smiling at him. 

“Who came to visit?” Ryan asked, falling into the chair with a little _oof_. He rolled back a few inches, and Shane reached out and grabbed the arm of the chair.

“Annabelle,” he answered, pulling Ryan back. Shane looked at him, thought about mentioning the Andrew thing, but instead he kissed Ryan’s cheek because that seemed far more important of a thing to do. 

Ryan’s cheeks were pink when Shane pulled back. “What was that for?” 

“ ‘cus you’re pretty.” Shane said. Then he scooted his chair over to Ryan’s desk. “Show me what you’ve got for scripts.” 

Ryan rolled his eyes, brushed the ash from his mouse, and pulled up the right documents on his computer screen. 

They got through two of them when Andrew walked by them again. Steven was with him this time, and he waved at Shane and Ryan as they passed. Andrew started, then smiled when he locked eyes with Shane and held up a rather obscenely large wad of cash. 

Ryan leaned close enough to Shane that his hair tickled at Shane’s cheek. His hair smelled like cranberries today. Ryan had switched shampoos a few days ago, but Shane hadn’t noticed the scent of it until now. 

It was nice. It was really nice. 

“Did Andrew win the betting pool?” he asked. 

Shane nodded and tried very hard not to lean over and just stick his nose in Ryan’s hair. He could do that now, but work probably wasn’t the best place for that. 

It didn’t surprise Shane that Ryan knew about the betting pool. Everybody knew about the betting pool. 

“Did you know Andrew is a demon?” it slipped out before Shane could really think about it. 

Ryan blinked and pulled back. Shane wanted to chase after him, but instead he looked back at Ryan as Ryan looked at him. He really did have very pretty eyes. “I--are you asking me literally or metaphorically?” 

“Literally.” Shane answered.

Ryan stared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow hi I'm not dead I just don't know what's happening in this story anymore

**Author's Note:**

> this was a Dumb Idea, but it wouldn't just stay nicely in the back of my head like all Dumb Ideas, so here we are
> 
> (I don't know if Shane actually calls his cat baby, but I call my cat baby all the time, as any good catdad does)


End file.
